NO LONGER THERE

STRAND FIVE

AFRICAN KING & GOD

Nana's skin is as white as bleached rice.

She looked like a pretty little ghost when she met me at the door.

"Aves," she shouted as she spread her diner straw looking arms toward me for a hug.

Now, you know where Clarence got the name.

"I missed you, Nana." I shouted back as I let her wrap those scraggly, pasty appendages around my tired body.

She smelled like smoke. Nana squeezed me tight, pulled back and stared in my face. This lil old white lady loves her grand baby, and her fatigued, mocha grand baby loves her back.

"Lilly told me she called you. I'm so glad she did. I hate Clarence had to bust his behind to get you back here, but I'm so happy to see you."

Nana squeezed me again. She could squeeze me all day, even if she did smell like a chimney. When we finally separated, I set my tattered backpack on the foyer table and heard her chuckle. We both did. We chuckled because we both knew Lillian hated that tattered thing.

"Why do you love torturing  your mother?" Nana asked with her Santa rosy cheeks.

"The same reason you do." I smirked.

Neither of us said another word. We didn't need to. We simply smiled.

"Come grab something to eat. I know that college food is shit."

That's my white as bleached rice, Nana.

"I actually need a shower first, then I'll join you."

She nodded in agreement as she walked into the kitchen. I scraped my tattered backpack across the foyer table and headed upstairs.

My room was the first at the top of the staircase. I had only been away two years and my mother completely changed it around. When I left, it looked like a teenager lived in it. Now, it's a Restoration Hardware showcase straight from the Masion Cane Collection.

I tossed that tattered backpack onto the bed, spreading multiple wrinkles across the hotel luxury duvet. My mother probably felt each one. She's where I got my 'control freak' gene from. Most of the time, it's not a bad thing. A full ride to UT Austin was one of those times.

I like order, just like Lillian. And I love being number one at anything I do, just not as much as Lillian. My mother was a stickler for perfection in everything she did and she expected us to be the same.

Have a look around.

There's not one hint of dust in this room. I can certify you won't find one in this whole house. The cleaning ladies are here everyday and that's still not enough, Nana pitches in too. Clarence, is just the opposite. The basement is his and it's a damn mess. Lisa, Nana, and I love it.

If Lillian got into one of her 'moods', we would all just band together like Titanic survivors and float away to the basement, the one place we all knew she would never enter. I spent the majority of my pre teen years down there, talking to Clarence, playing with Lisa and bonding with Nana.

Nana told me all about my grandfather, Giovanni. She kept his pictures in a storage trunk in the far right corner of Clarence's man cave. He passed on before my mother graduated from medical school. Nana believes that is part of Lillian's issues and one of her biggest regrets.

Nana says my grandfather was as hot tempered as he was handsome. And since my Nana is cool as a cucumber, I assume Giovanni is to blame for Lillian.

Like Lisa and me, she was a daddy's girl though. He loved rodeo's. So, she did too. She kept going to shows and stock fairs after Giovanni died because she felt close to him there. That's how she was able to meet Clarence.