Did You Hear About Kitty Karr?

by Crystal Smith Paul

Elise could mimic emotions she didn’t feel on command but had no ability to express the ones that were true.

“You know I hate Starbucks.” “Sorry, we didn’t have time to get you the lavender latte you would have preferred.”

“There are as many sides to the truth as people telling the story.”

Elise let him off the hook for siding with her mother, knowing he would never betray his allegiance to his wife for anyone.

The pain that you’ve been feeling can’t compare to the joy that’s coming.

The preacher said jealous-hearted people would downplay Mary Magdalene’s role in history with accusations of moral corruption, mistaking her identity or ignoring her significance to Jesus altogether. The joke, though, the preacher said, was on them. With one’s attention turned outward, one forgets one’s own ability to harness understanding of the truth.

Hazel named her baby Mary Magdalene, believing in the preacher’s words that her daughter was more than a witness—she was the spawn, the magnificent physical manifestation of the worst in the world, one who would one day, Hazel believed, absolve the sin of her creation. Hazel was in fact a vessel, the incubator of a tiny miracle.

Jim Crow prohibited Negroes from lodging establishments, but there wasn’t a Negro community in America where you couldn’t find temporary shelter.

The world forced Negro girls to mature faster than anyone else; the ugliness in the world was inflicted upon them first.

“Everyone’s different from everyone else,

“I knew it! I didn’t see you but I could feel you!” Hazel, whose hands were still occupied, bent to kiss the top of her head. “I hope you’ll always be able to feel me, baby.”

“People can tell you they love you three times a day and still treat you any kind of way when it really comes down to it.”

They’re your kin, and hating them means you’ll end up hating a little of yourself too.

Smile if they’re White but make as little conversation as possible. If they ask, say you’re going

to see family in Los Angeles. If they’re Negro, avoid eye contact. They’ll leave you alone.

“Kitty was a friend to me, and now that she’s gone, I realize I’ve lost the closest thing that I had to a mother.”

“Your husband doesn’t mind you working?” “No, he’s a liberal, thank God. What else would I do?”

two dozen Negro women, with skin colored near-White, light, yellow, medium beige, tawny, bronzy, brown-black, dark, and blue-black, and varying hair textures and features. The cluster represented the full color spectrum of the Negro race, Americans comprised of varying degrees of African and European blood.

“Their Whiteness blinds them, makes them stupid,”

“Because I fucking love you, that’s why! I lied to the FBI for you. I won’t let this ruin everything we’ve built. I can fix this, but you must stop what you’ve been doing.”

“Unhand me,” she said and, smiling, pulled open his door.