{"product_id":"dancing-on-the-edge-of-the-roof-a-novel-the-basis-for-the-film-juanita-isbn-9780345459305","title":"Dancing on the Edge of the Roof: A Novel (the basis for the film Juanita)","description":"\u003cb\u003e“\u003ci\u003eDancing on the Edge of the Roof \u003c\/i\u003ekept my heart and mind dancing through the pages. Sheila Williams, with her talent for detailed storytelling, expertly takes the reader on a poignant and humorous quest for self.”—Lori Bryant-Woolridge, author of \u003ci\u003eRead Between the Lies\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAt forty-one, Juanita Lewis is running away from home, courtesy of a one-way ticket  to Montana, a place that seems about as far away from the violence and poverty of  the Columbus, Ohio, projects as the moon. She wants adventure and excitement—if such  things exist for a pre-menopausal African American woman with three grown, deadbeat  children.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Juanita’s new life in Paper Moon, Montana, begins at a local diner where  a culinary face-off with chef and owner Jess Gardiner finds Juanita in front of Jess’s stove serving up home cookin’ that lures the townsfolk like a magic spell. And  suddenly Juanita, who was just passin’ through, now has a job by popular demand.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Out here in this wide-open space, Juanita’s heart can no longer hide, especially  when she sees herself through the eyes of the wonderful and eccentric people of this  down-to-earth town. She’s happy in Paper Moon; she’s found a home, but can she stay?  And then there’s Jess.  She has always dreamed of romance, but she never planned  on falling in love.“\u003ci\u003eDancing on the Edge of the Roof \u003c\/i\u003ekept my heart and mind dancing through the pages.  Sheila Williams, with her talent for detailed storytelling, expertly takes the reader  on a poignant and humorous quest for self.”\u003cb\u003e—Lori Bryant-Woolridge, author of \u003ci\u003eRead  Between the Lies\u003cbr\u003e \u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cb\u003eSheila Williams\u003c\/b\u003e was born and raised in Columbus, Ohio. She attended Ohio Wesleyan University and is a graduate of the University of Louisville. She has published four books, including \u003ci\u003eDancing on the Edge of the Roof\u003c\/i\u003e. She lives with her family in Newport, Kentucky.When I was forty-two years old, I decided to run away from home. Just pack up and go.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWouldn't take dishes or nothin', no \"household goods,\" stuff like that. Just my own stuff. What I could get into two suitcases.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWasn't runnin' away exactly, just movin' on. I wanted to see things I'd never seen before, go places different from here.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI had been here too long.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWasn't nothin' happenin' here. Not a damn thing.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSometimes, you hear people say they want to find themselves. Well, I didn't need to do that. I knew where I was. That was the problem.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWhen I was a kid, I watched the Popeye cartoons on Saturday mornin' before my momma waked up. Swee' Pea, the baby, he was my favorite. He would feel like he wasn't bein' treated right, so he would tie up all his things in a bandanna (like the ones my son Rashawn wears on his head now) and put it on a pole and crawl away, him in his pjs. And he'd see monsters and China and the ocean-the exciting things he'd never seen before.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIt was like a big adventure.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThat's what I wanted. A big adventure, all my own.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eNow, you know there was a lot workin' against me. I'm not what you call educated or nothin' like that. I ain't never been nowhere, don't have much of a life as it is. Got a COTA bus life-I go where the bus go: to work, to the carry-out, then home.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd I'm not the kinda woman that you would think could have adventures. I'm not brave or smart. Not pretty or important. I ain't nobody you ever heard of. Ha! I'll never be anybody you heard of!\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd to most folks, I ain't much. But that's OK. I was smart enough to know that I couldn't stay here. Couldn't keep living the same old piece of life, doing the same old thing. Somebody said \"life is not a dress rehearsal.\" I know what that means.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eYou don't get a second chance.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI think it's time to leave. Juanita's great adventure.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eEven if I don't get very far, it will still be farther than I've been.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIf Swee' Pea can have an adventure, then so can I.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eNow, I didn't come to this way of thinking overnight. It took a long time.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Momma?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBertie's voice took me out of my daydream.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Momma!\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Momma in there?\" I heard my daughter yell back to her brother.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Bertie, she in there,\" Rashawn yelled back. \"She just writin' in that notebook again, that's all. You know how she gets.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Momma, you in there, or what?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBertie's pounding was starting to get on my nerves.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Whatchu want, Bertie? And quit banging on my door! You gonna tear it down?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Sorry, Momma,\" Bertie said. But she didn't sound like she was sorry. \"Momma, can you keep Teishia for me? Me and Cheryl goin' to the Do Drop.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Then you and Cheryl needs to take Teishia with you,\" I said. \"I want some peace and quiet tonight.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Aw, Momma! I ain't been out in two days!\" she whined. I hate it when Bertie whines.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"I won't be gone long, I promise,\" she lied. \"Besides, Teishia'll be good. She go right to sleep.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI sighed. That was the right word. Sigh . . . I closed my notebook and went to put it away.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Bertie, the last time you said that, that baby kept me up till two. And you and Cheryl didn't come home till mornin'.\" I opened the bedroom door. My daughter was standing there, dressed and ready to go. Teishia was sitting in the middle of the floor, playing with a Bic lighter. I ran over to her and snatched it away.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Bertie, you a fool or what? You got t' watch that child every minute! She mighta set herself-and us-on fire! And put these up!\" I clicked the lighter. The flame jumped up an inch.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBertie rolled her eyes like she thought I was stupid.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Girl, you roll those eyes like that again, you be pickin' them up off the floor!\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Momma, she only a baby. She can't work it.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"And you a fool.\" I stashed the lighter in my robe pocket.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"You gonna keep her or not?\" Bertie's hand was on her hip, and she was getting a definite attitude. I woulda got one with her but I had just come off a ten-hour shift at the hospital. I was tired. All I wanted was for this baby to go to sleep so I could relax. I could always jump an attitude with Bertie some other time.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"She better go to sleep,\" I told Bertie. Teishia stuck one fat finger in her mouth.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBertie lit out that door so fast, it made your head spin.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShe left an empty Doritos bag, four Coke cans, and a full ashtray behind her. Not to mention a stack of magazines and the TV blasting. I clicked off the TV and started to pick up some of the mess. Found one of Teishia's dirty diapers under the pillow on my couch. That really made me mad. I'm gettin' sick and tired of pickin' up after that girl.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe sound of a sonic boom came from Rashawn's room.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Turn that stuff down!\" I shouted. I heard voices. It sounded like someone said \"Shhh . . . y'all. It's my momma.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI banged on the door. Somebody turned down the volume-but not enough.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Rashawn, you got somebody in there with you?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eMore voices . . .\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eTeishia grunted. I looked over at her. She had a funny look on her face. The smell made my nose itch.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShit . . .\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Rashawn!\" I knocked again, this time with my fist. I tried the doorknob, but it was locked.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Rashawn, who's in there?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eTeishia grunted. I looked over my shoulder. Oh, Lord, it was gonna be a big one.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Just Tiny and Pete, Momma.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWell, that's just great, I said to myself a few minutes later as I wiped Teishia's stinky behind. Pete was OK, but Tiny? \"Tiny\" was almost seven feet tall, and had four babies by three girls that I knew of. He was a crackhead most of the time. And a thief. He stole the little Walkman my momma gave me for Christmas. He took money outta Bertie's purse once and even took Rashawn's twenty-two, tho' Rashawn had no business keeping a twenty-two in my house in the first place. Tiny was always grinning and bobbing around, gettin' up in my face with \"Good mornin', Miz Louis, good evenin', Miz Louis. You all right? You need somethin'? I'll set you up. Get you straight.\" Negro was always tryin' to give me somethin'. Shoot. He didn't have nothin' I wanted. Well, 'cept maybe for my Walkman he stole. Other than that, Tiny was a lyin', stealin', dirty junkie, and I did not want him in my house.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBut tonight was not the night for that either.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI let Tiny stay a little while. I told Rashawn to turn the music down again. He said \"Shit.\" Then he and Tiny and Pete left.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI washed the baby up and put her to sleep in the fold-up playpen. Took me a bath with Calgon and laughed. What does that commercial say? \"Calgon . . . take me away.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI sat on the couch and smoked a cigarette. Watched the baby sleep. Heard sirens screaming down Main Street. Lots of noise outside. It sounded like Mardee was havin' another party across the hall. I blindly watched the figures dancing across the TV screen. Ducked down when I thought I heard a gunshot. I drank a Coke and listened to Mardee's party and to the cars going by.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThen I took out my notebook. It's pretty, covered with fabric. A \"paisley\" print, the saleslady had told me.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI had the pen in my hand-a real ballpoint. It cost me good money at the flea market. It wasn't cheap or nothin'. I took a deep breath, got ready.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eMy hand didn't move.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWhat was I gonna say?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eYou're supposed to have a juicy story to tell on pages like this-a hot love affair like the ones they talk about on the TV, or a long trip to a far-off place.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI looked at the empty page. Then I looked at my good ink pen. I closed the notebook.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eYou don't write about a COTA bus life in a paisley-fabric-covered notebook.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd you can't write the story of a ninety-nine-cent life with a three-dollar-fifty-cent Parker pen.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eA ninety-nine cent-life goes something like this:\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAt home they call me \"Momma.\" At work, I am \"Nita\" or \"Hey, you!\" But my name is Juanita Louis. And I like to be called \"Juanita.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI live in the projects. They call it low-income housing now. But when I came along (\"back in the day\" as my kids would say) they called 'em projects. My parents worked hard to move us kids outta there, Daddy worked three jobs and Momma worked two. I remember when we finally moved outta there and into a small two-story frame house off Cleveland Avenue. Mom and Dad were so proud. Nowadays they try to make the projects look like someplace you wanna be, glamorize gunshots and crackheads. Now, it's called the 'hood.","brand":"One World","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":46303265652965,"sku":"NP9780345459305","price":19.0,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9780345459305.jpg?v=1767724452","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/es\/products\/dancing-on-the-edge-of-the-roof-a-novel-the-basis-for-the-film-juanita-isbn-9780345459305","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}