Two Shades of Color

By Louise Anderson-Smith

Two Shades of Color is based on true events and is the story of a woman named Naomi, who struggles to understand familial colorisms. Eventually, she receives adoration and life lessons from the unlikeliest of individuals. Two Shades of Color is the story of love, deception, triumph, setbacks, and comebacks.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Page Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Aug 30, 2021
• ISBN: 9781662432200

Book preview

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Two Shades of Color

Louise Anderson-Smith

Copyright © 2021 Louise Anderson-Smith

All rights reserved

First Edition

PAGE PUBLISHING, INC.

Conneaut Lake, PA

First originally published by Page Publishing 2021

ISBN 978-1-6624-3219-4 (pbk)

ISBN 978-1-6624-3220-0 (digital)

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

9

10

11

12

13

14

15

This book is dedicated to its sole inspiration. She knows who she is.

1

Naomi Hopkins had always been a very pretty dark-skinned girl. Even as an infant, her pretty, round face and large, deep, sad eyes would capture the hearts of whoever wished to hold and cuddle her. She was the seventh child and the baby girl of Mona Hopkins. There were four girls and three boys.

Naomi stopped wondering about three years ago as to why her mother kept the four light-skinned children and gave her and her dark-skinned sister and brother away. Mona gave them to anyone in the family who would keep them; however, after realizing her family members no longer wanted to be bothered with them, not even their maternal grandmother, she placed them into foster care.

Naomi had just turned five when her grandma Lizzie finally decided that she would try raising the three children, whose ages were five, seven, and ten—Naomi, Jim, and Carolyn. Grandma Lizzie made their lives a living hell for the next seven years. So-called colorism was worse than any plague the children could have ever experienced. Grandma Lizzie’s reason for taking the children into her home in the first place was because she had grown tired of gossip from people in the community, especially church folk. Even Grandma Lizzie’s male friend, Bozak Hillman, would often time say things to her about getting her grandchildren and making a home for them.

The family was strange. There were unspoken, tension-filled emotions going on. Mona was not allowed at Grandma Lizzie’s house, and that would take years for Naomi to comprehend. While the four light-skinned children, two girls and two boys, were given preferential treatment by their mother, the other three were beaten and had to work like slaves, moreover, punished for being dark-skinned.

It was a very pleasant morning in May, on a Saturday. Naomi took her newspaper out onto her deck, which overlooked her garden.

Thank God for the rain, she whispered as she looked down at the beautiful green leaves, which she called collard greens.

Oh, my tomatoes are blooming. Naomi sat at the table underneath a pinstriped umbrella, sipping from a cup of decaffeinated coffee, reading the morning paper. She could hardly maintain her attention on the paper from admiring the scenery that surrounded her. Dogwood trees were in full bloom. Everything, even the roses, bared colors only nature could provide. They could not be imitated no matter how hard one tried. Things couldn’t have gotten any better, she thought.

Naomi laid her paper aside and began to reminisce. For the first five years of her life, she lived with her great aunt, Catherine, Grandma Lizzie’s sister. Naomi had a hazy recollection about those years, only being slapped around and made to eat everything on her plate, whether she wanted to or not. Aunt Catherine would often say, Eat all that food, gal. Just think ’bout the chillans who ain’t got nothing, and God knows I ain’t got nothing to waste on you. You hear me, Black gal?

Yes, Miss Aunt Catrine.

Aunt Catherine would become so angry at that until she would begin to swear and fuss Naomi out as though she was talking to another adult.

Gal, you ain’t gonna never have no sense, just like your ole no-good ma. Laying her nasty behind around with all them men and having babies for somebody else to raise ’em. Um getting down in my body foolin’ wit y’all clowns.

Despite Aunt Catherine’s set ways, at least she provided a roof over Naomi’s head and made sure she ate something if it was only fried fatback, biscuits, and molasses syrup, sometimes every day, all day. Aunt Catherine’s husband had been dead for ten years, and there were not any children born into that union.

She was feeling really low one night around her husband’s death anniversary and poured her heart out to the five-year-old Naomi through tears.

Naomi, your uncle Tommy wudn’t a real bad man. He just was weak when it came to them ole hot-tailed women, just like yo’ ma. And he died and left me. I didn’t even have money to put ’im to rest decently. I had to pass a hat ’round and take up some money. He died in his girlfriend’s bed. That was the worst gossip I had ever been part of. Pointing an index finger, she said, You better not tell a soul, or I’ll give you the whooping of your life, you hear me? I’ll whoop your ass like a dog.

Yes, Miss Aunt Catrine.

Aunt Catherine looked at Naomi, disgustedly shaking her head. Now gone to bed so you can get up early and go with me over to Mrs. Lois’s house to pick them chickens. She’s gonna give me one for our dinner on Sunday.

Aunt Catherine was in no way parental material, but she tried hard at it. Naomi was so afraid of her until she would have nightmares that seemingly would never end. But one day, Aunt Catherine announced to Naomi that she was no longer able to keep her and that she would be going to live with her grandma Lizzie.

Aunt Catherine was a tall slim light-skinned woman with a nice grade of hair, which she wore parted down the middle with four pigtails pinned across the top of her head. She had a very pleasant face, and it could fool those who did not know her well. But, on the other hand, Grandma Lizzie was just as bit as tall, light-skinned, with a good grade of hair, only she wore hers combed to the back in a bun. She was firm, wore a size eleven-and-a-half shoe, and her shoulders were like those of a bodybuilder or a football player. You could look at her and tell that she was once a nice-looking woman in her day. Her build was not bad for a woman her age. At seventy-two, she was still doing daywork for White people, the same as Aunt Catherine. Naomi was short, shorter than most girls her age, and much more mature than her peers. At the age of five, she had learned to listen and listen well. She could not decipher everything of what she heard, but she knew a lot of things said were not right or had her best interest at heart.

Naomi arrived at Grandma Lizzie’s house about thirty minutes prior to the arrival of her siblings, only to be lectured by her grandmother, and the same lecturing would go on once Carolyn and Jim arrived and for the next seven consecutive years. Naomi did not know her siblings. She had not seen or met them to remember, until that hot day in July. Carolyn and Jim had been living in foster care, handled through the Department of Family and Children Services, but their foster parent had suffered a stroke, and that became a reason for Grandma Lizzie taking them in. There was not another foster home available at that time.

Naomi was happy to have someone to play with. Carolyn and Jim embraced Naomi and giggled until Grandma Lizzie broke them up.

Y’all…all y’all come on in here, sit down over there on that settee, demanded Grandma Lizzie, nodding her head and pointing in the direction of the sofa. I ain’t gonna have that noise, not at all. My nerves done been shot a long time ago, fooling wit y’all ole crazy, no-good ma. Y’all ain’t gonna be nothing like ’er, um gonna see to dat. I ain’t gonna feed you and let you stay here for nothin’. Y’all gonna do some chores ’round here. Y’all hear me? Grandma Lizzie looked at the children from one to the other.

Jim was a very nervous little boy and had a very nervous habit. He would twitch his nose when yelled at, and he did it an awful lot at Grandma Lizzie’s house. But on the other hand, Carolyn was very mature. She had become a regular little nurse at the foster home after Mrs. Nolan suffered a stroke and was placed in a nursing home. Nevertheless, the three dark-skinned siblings had to make the best out of that very bad situation. To be unwanted and unloved by their blood relatives because of their skin tone was devastating and humiliating as any inhumane treatment they could experience in life.

Grandma Lizzie would sometimes carry the children along to her day job. They would do the dusting, and Carolyn could really wash dishes and sweep. Where did you learn how to do housework like that, gal? Grandma Lizzie would inquire. I need for you to keep it up. Um gonna teach you how to make biscuits and stuff.

Carolyn never said too much. It was obvious that she had suffered some type of abuse at somebody’s hands along the way. Her face looked hard and old for a ten-year-old. Her eyes were similar to Naomi’s, although not as large but every bit as dark and sad. When the children did not go to work with Grandma Lizzie, Mr. Hillman, her friend, would sit with them a few hours during the day.

Mr. Hillman was a very nice man, so kind and soft-spoken. He was brown-skinned with salt-and-pepper low-cut hair. Old Bozak still held on to some of his youthful appearances. He had no facial wrinkles, his body looked as though he lifted weights, and he was always clean and smelled good. He wore Old Spice cologne. Grandma Lizzie told him one day, That Old Spice is cutting up, ain’t it, Hillman? Maybe, behind closed doors, she was nicer to him than she was to anyone else around. After all, it was something that kept him coming back and bringing mullet fish on Friday evenings. Grandma Lizzie could giggle louder than the children on those evenings, and she was sure to send the children to bed right after supper.

This one particular incident at supper stuck with Naomi, plaguing her mind for a long time. Jim was nine years old at the time and a growing boy. One chicken leg was not enough for him, so he ate a second chicken leg when the children were only allowed to eat one. Grandma Lizzie soon discovered the chicken leg was missing, which caused her to tum into a raging bull.

"When I set the rules ’round here, I mean for y’all to live by them! Them lil welfare checks I get for keeping y’all ain’t shit. All y’all came here wit two or three pieces in a brown paper sack. I had to go to the curb market and spend my own money on you to make you look halfway decent. Now, boy, I got something for you!"

Had she only said, Boo, Jim probably would