Chapters (31)
- Cover
- Title Page
- Dedication
- Contents
- Room in the Dark I
- Fawns of the Diaspora Court Liliane in Paris, While Tabou Combo Whispers “Coq Qualité” in Her Ears
- Room in the Dark II
- “I Usedta Drink, Smoke and Do the Hoochie-Koo,” or What’s a Girl to Do When Her Mother Looks Like Ruth Brown
- Room in the Dark III
- “El Bochinche” es que only Fe Cortijo Knows or All the LeBron Brothers Know If Victor-Jésus María Sang Lili to Her Freedom
- Room in the Dark IV
- And Where Is Garnett Mimms?
- Room in the Dark V
- I Know Where Kansas City Is, But Did Wilbert Harrison Ever Get There?
- Room in the Dark VI
- Zoom Went the Strings of Liliane’s Heart, But Arsenio Rodriguez Could Have Told Her the Music Sounds Just as Sweet When We’re Blind and Still We See
- Room in the Dark VII
- I Know Where the E Train Stops But I’m “Sendin’ Out an S.O.S.” and I’m Not Edwin Starr Either
- Room in the Dark VIII
- “Happy, Happy Birthday, Baby” or Wouldn’t It Be Great If the Lead Singer of The Crests Wasn’t a White Boy and I Could Be My Mother?
- Room in the Dark IX
- Every Time My Lil World Seems Blue, I Just Haveta Look at You and Learn Eye-Hand Coordination
- Room in the Dark X
- “That’s Why I Love Her So and Yeah, Yeah, Yeah, I Want to Know” or Why Jackie Wilson Died in Silence
- Room in the Dark XI
- There’s No Use Cryin’ “Forever” or Hyacinthe Returns from a Very Blue Holiday for Real B(l)ack at Ya
- Room in the Dark XII
- Lollie Struts Her Stuff Thru “The Sea of Love” or the Brides of Frankenstein Catch the Bouquet
- By Ntozake Shange
- Acknowledgments
- Copyright
“Happy, Happy Birthday, Baby” or Wouldn’t It Be Great If the Lead Singer of The Crests Wasn’t a White Boy and I Could Be My Mother?
I do love her, but she a simple bitch, damn. You gotta flow with me here, cause I don’t know any other way to explain what happened. I just got to say it like we are who we are. That’s all. And wasn’t nobody expectin’ us to be hot ’n bothered or smart or beyond the lowest IQ in the Western Hemisphere. But it don’t matter none. We’re here and if all I could say is that Liliane’s mother grows orchids, then shit, that’s all I gotta say.
I listen to Lili. I have no choice. She’s my blood. What happened to her, could just as easily be my comeuppance. I just wish she’d get out her bed and talk to me like I had some sense.
“Lollie, Lollie, listen! That’s my mama wanderin’ her gardens, singin’. Just a-singin’ her heart out. Oh, I need to get my notebooks. Hand me that blue one. Right. And a #1 pencil. Soft and black. Just like my mama. Lollie, stop laughin’ at me. It’s not my fault if I know the sun’s up cause my mama is singin’. Just give me my notebook, dammit.”
The sounds of their voices, fingers, and breath brushing against paper left me alone unexpectedly. These were their rituals and visions and even though I was truly “present,” I was not allowed. I’d never been allowed and this never bothered me. I’m not no chump, some silly bitch who can’t take herself home alone. No, sirree.
I cannot explain all this. Yet I can say I saw, I mean, I see, anything a body could see, if you wanted, I mean. These Northerners.
“Oh, Lollie.”
My cousin Lili whips me cross my head. Right now. You understand? I stepped back and looked at her like if you ever do that again, I will kill you. Give it to me or if you ain’t got it, get out my way. It is so easy to make these folks leap through what I know to be right now, right this moment, I thought to myself.
I have always been a hoodlum. There is nobody nowhere who could say otherwise. Plus I’ve always looked just like this…. A niggah gal with genes, good features and timing. Fuck you! I got what anybody in the world might need, whenever. And caint anybody anywhere bring alla that to you. You gotta understand. I know you understand. So, don’t you fret none.
Uncle Parnell come stalkin’ the hallways lookin’ for some long misplaced cravat. Winona clatters in the kitchen to a breakfast gospel of grits and red-eye gravy, just for me and Mama.