The Chesterfield
by
Deborah Jones
I was ten years old when I went to live with my maternal grandparents my
grandmother was a carmel Colored woman with a soft mellow voice,
My grandfather was also tall and the color of charcoal and he spoke with a
sluggish South Carolinian accent .
Everyone who knew me always commented on my weight because I weighed ten
Pounds more than the cartoon character Oylive Oil
Whom I had become familiar with by watching the popular cartoon series
Popeye Every saturday morning,
My hair was always kept tightly braided with an occasional loose end
sticking out ,
A hair style that my grandfather said reminded him of poochie , a puppy he
once owned as a child and with whom I shared the same pet name .
Oscar more commonly known to me as grandad and hen-pecked to everyone else
Who resided in our apartment building , because he nodded in full Areement
to everthing that was said by grandmom . we live in a five story tenement
building that was located on one hundred twenty sixth street and Lenox
avenue in Harlem a borough of New York city, the apartment building
consisted of people from West Indian descent and other people who had Come
from various states in ths south in search of better jobs and opportunities
.
My summers were filled with the carefree spirit of adolescence, playing
sometimes into the night as my grandfather watched from the window
simultaneously,
Each evening he waited until the sun had gone down before he joined us on
the Stoop because he said the direct sun gave him a headache and on occasion
made him slightly dizzy but the details of his prognostic ailments did not
concerned me because all I knew was when he came out it was the signal that
the good humor man was about to make his final rounds ,most of the kids in
the neighborhood were made to share their ice cream
With their brothers, sisters or other family members and the fact that I had
no siblings , cousins or other wise with whom to share
My daily quotient of six coconut ice cream bars a day always pleased me.
Everyone said that my grandfather would be sorry one day for over indulging
me the way he did , but I say that he was only trying to show me love
In the only way that was familiar to him , and the fact that he could not
read or write had no bearing on my feelings for him.
I trusted him and depended on him for many things such as his teachings
about Black Pride , his warnings about the dangers of drugs ,
The importance of education, and to be wary of strangers .
And I knew that his personal philosphies would be the navigating force for
my survival in Harlem .What would I ever do without him
To spoil and protect Me , One day my grandmother asked me to go to the
cleaners for her I hated going there for several reasons one was because
The cleaners was operated by a light skinned man who was not only mean in
his mannerism but was in a wheel chair to boot
But I later found out that man whom I secretly refered to as creepy was non
other than the Roy Capanella .
The second reason is because it was located on one hundred and twenty fifth
street Which was a comerialized area and the fixture for the Appolo ,soul
food Restaurants.local shops, minority owned businesses, bars and winos who
were always huddled together as if discussing a play in a football game they
held the bottle of wine tightly as they passed it from one to the other
while the salutation of Hey Baby" was adressed to every woman
And girl that passed them, but as always without saying a word I passed them
hastily just as my grandfather had previously instructed me to do
In the winter months to follow I was called upon to run many errands which
required me to pass the corner where the pathetic winos had stood previously
These errands included occasionally meeting my grandfather at the lenox
avenue station .Today was march 4th one day of many that I was to meet him
At the station but it was not an ordinary day it was friday one day away
from my birthday and the day that I would become a pre- teen I would be
eleven Wow" I watched anxiously as he exited the turn stop bet you thought
that I forgot your birthday what would Poochie like most in the whole world
?
The smile on my face widened slowly as he said I know a chesterfield coat I
had asked for the grey tweed coat for Christmas
But recieved an easy bake oven instead , I will have to get it tonight
because I wont be here tomorrow I looked quzically into his face and ask
Where are you going ? he answered in a stren voice I am going on a trip .
and although he did not mention
The trip again I could not imagine him going on a trip without me or
grandmom.
But thoughts of his mysterious trip was soon replaced by visions of owning a
new
Chesterfield coat. Early the next morning I was awakened by the sound
My grandmoms cries I entered the room where they slept slowly and found him
on
The floor in a kneeling position with her standing directly over him the
room was filled
A fowl smelling odor that she said came from him releasing his bowels, his
eyes were
Closed tight with dried white stains in the corners of them her soft voice
wasnow shrill
And high pitched as she asked me to stay with him until she could get help.
I bent down
Helplessly beside him pretending to understand the new game that he was
playing .
She returned fifteen minutes later accompanied by two men who were dressedin
white
My grandfather was now the color of dull black leather , one of the men
placed two
Fingers on his neck and looked into her swollen tear filled eyes and then
said to the
Second man lets get the stretcher " as the men inched their way down the
Equiangular corridor of our floor that was filled with curious tennants,
they retrieved
The strecher from the ambulance and returned to the apartment to remove the
now
Stiff body that was still kneeling on the floor.
The man that I knew as my grandfather was dead .
I mourned his death silently realizing that the Chesterfield coat could
never replace
His gift of love .
