YOU KNOW BETTER

Three generations of small-town black women, aided by lovable ghosts.

Lily Paine Pines drives around Mulberry, Georgia, looking for LaShawndra, her wayward granddaughter, when the wispy, wrinkled apparition of a much-loved local teacher, Miss Grace Moses, appears in the seat beside her, offering sage counsel and companionship during the long night. Miss Moses listens patiently as Lily reminisces about her own childhood and teaching career—and about her failed marriage to Charles, a compulsive gambler who doted on their only daughter, Sandra. Did he spoil her? As a teenager, Sandra got pregnant but never paid much attention to her daughter, much to Lily’s dismay. Now, Sandra, who sells real estate, is involved in a romantic relationship with a preacher and is generally obsessed with respectability and material things. Luckily, she’s showing houses to another wise ghost, Nurse Joanna Bloom, once a midwife at the local colored hospital. Joanna is a stalwart spirit in starched white who teaches cynical Sandra a thing or two about hope. Sandra finds out that Joanna aborted her own illegitimate baby decades ago—and made up for it by bringing generations of babies into the world. Shift to LaShawndra, a hootchie-mama of 19 who favors microskirts and tube tops. She’s got a reputation as a ho (she isn’t) and is always ready to hook up with any good-for-nothing who struts by; now, she’s hitching to Freaknik, a wild spring-break party for black college students, when a phat phantom in a shiny black Jag pulls over. Why, it’s Liza Jane, the glamorous, tough-talking former owner of a juke joint. LaShawndra can’t tell if Liza Jane is real or not, but her car sure is. The two head down the road, and LaShawndra finds out that the good times can kill her if she’s not careful. And so on.

Can-I-get-a-witness enthusiasm can’t compensate for a nearly nonexistent story. From the author of similar tales (The Hand I Fan With, 1996, etc.).