I looked. “Forty-one dollars and sixty-three cents.”
“Just you hold on to it. Ah don’t want a thing in mah hands but dis knife.”
Big Sweet turned to scoop a card in the rough. Just at that moment Ella chose to yell over, “Hey, bigger-than-me!” at Big Sweet. She whirled around angrily and asked me, “Didn’t dat storm-buzzard throw a slam at me?”
“Naw, she was hollerin’ at somebody else,” I lied to keep the peace.
Nothing happening, Ella shouted, “’Tain’t nothin’ to her. She ain’t hit me yet.”
Big Sweet heard that and threw in her cards and faced about. “If anything start, Little-Bit, you run out de door like a streak uh lightning and get in yo’ car. They gointer try to hurt you too.”
I thought of all I had to live for and turned cold at the thought of dying in a violent manner in a sordid saw-mill camp. But for my very life I knew I couldn’t leave Big Sweet even if the fight came. She had been too faithful to me. So I assured her that I wasn’t going unless she did. My only weapons were my teeth and toe-nails.
Ella crowded her luck. She yelled out, “Lucy, go tell Mr. Lots-of-Papa Joe Willard Ah say come here. Jus’ tell ’im his weakness want ’im. He know who dat is.”
Lucy started across. Ella stood up akimbo, but everybody knew she was prepared to back her brag with cold steel in some form, or she wouldn’t have been there talking like she was.
A click beside me and I knew that the spring blade knife that Big Sweet carried was open.
“Stop right where you is, Lucy,” Big Sweet ordered, “lessen you want to see yo’ Jesus.”
“Gwan Lucy,” Ella Wall called out, “’tain’t nothin’ stoppin’ yuh. See nothin’, say nothin’.”
Big Sweet turned to Ella. “Maybe Ah ain’t nothin’. But Ah say Lucy ain’t gointer tell Joe Willard nothin’. What you sendin’ her for? Why don’t you go yo’self? Dere he is.”
“Well, Ah kin go, now,” Ella countered.
Big Sweet took a step forward that would put her right in Ella’s path in case she tried to cross the room. “Ah can’t hear what you say for yo’ damn teeth rattlin’. Come on!”
Then the only thing that could have stopped the killing happened. The Quarters Boss stepped in the door with a .45 in his hand and another on his hip. Expect he had been eavesdropping as usual.
“What’s the matter here, y’all? Big Sweet, what you mean tuh do wid that knife?”
“Ahm jus’ ’bout tuh send God two niggers. Come in here bull-dozin’ me.”
The Quarters Boss looked all around and pointed at Ella. “What tha hell you doin’ in here wid weapons? You don’t belong on this job nohow. Git the hell outa here and that quick. This place is for people that works on this job. Git! Somebody’ll be in Barton jail in twenty minutes.”
“You don’t need tuh run her off, Cap’n,” Big Sweet said. “Ah can git her tuh go. Jus’ you stand back and gimme lief. She done stepped on mah starter and Ahm rearin’ tuh go. If God’ll send me uh pistol Ah’ll send ’im uh man!”
“You ain’t gonna kill nobody right under mah nose,” the Quarters Boss snorted. “Gimme that knife you got dere, Big Sweet.”
“Naw suh! Nobody gits mah knife. Ah bought it for dat storm-buzzard over dere and Ah means tuh use it on her, too. As long as uh mule go bareheaded she better not part her lips tuh me. Do Ah’ll kill her, law or no law. Don’t you touch me, white folks!”
“Aw she ain’t so bad!” Ella sneered as she wrung her hips towards the door. “She didn’t kill Jesse James.”
“Git on ’way from here!” the Boss yelled behind her. “Lessen yuh wanna make time in Barton jail. Git off these premises and that quick! Gimme that knife!” He took the knife and gave Ella a shove. She moved sullenly behind her crowd away from the door, mumbling threats. He followed and stayed outside until the car pulled off. Then he stuck his head back inside and said, “Now you behave yo’self, Big Sweet. Ah don’t wanna hafta jail yuh.”
Soon as he was gone the mob got around Big Sweet. “You wuz noble!” Joe Willard told her, “You wuz uh whole woman and half uh man. You made dat cracker stand off a you.”
“Who wouldn’t?” said Presley. “She got loaded muscles. You notice he don’t tackle Big Sweet lak he do de rest round here. Dats cause she ain’t got uh bit better sense then tuh make ’im kill her.”
“Dats right,” Big Sweet admitted, “and de nex’ time Joe tell his Mulberry woman tuh come here bulldozin’ me, Ahm gointer beat ’im to death grabbin’ at ’im.”
Joe Willard affected supreme innocence. “Will you lissen at dis ’oman? Ah ain’t sent fuh nobody. Y’all see Ah didn’t never go where she wuz, didn’t yuh? Come on Big Sweet, less go home. How ’bout uh li’l keerless love? Ahm all ravalled out from de strain.”
Joe and Big Sweet went home together and that was that.
When the quarters boss had gone, I saw Box-Car Daddy creeping back in the door. I didn’t see him leave the place so I asked him where he had been.
“Had to step off a li’l piece,” he told me with an effort at nonchalance.
“He always steps off whenever he see dat Quarters Boss, and he doing right, too,” someone said.
“How come?” I asked. “Nobody else don’t run.”
Everybody laughed but nobody told me a thing. But after a while Box-Car began to sing a new song and I liked the swing of it.
“What’s dat you singing, Box-Car?” I asked.
“‘Ah’m Gointer Loose dis Right-hand Shackle from ’Round my Leg.’ Dat’s a chain-gang song. Thought everybody knowed dat.”
“Nope, never heard it. Ain’t never been to de gang. How did you learn it?”
“Working on de gang.”
“Whut you doin’ on de gang, Box-Car? You look like a good boy, but a poor boy.”
“Oh, dey put me under arrest one day for vacancy in Bartow. When de judge found out Ah had a job of work. He took and searched me and when he found out Ah had a deck of cards on me, he charged me wid totin’ concealed cards, and attempt to gamble, and gimme three months. Then dey made out another charge ’ginst me. ’Cused me of highway shufflin’, and attempt to gamble. You know dese white folks sho hates tuh turn a nigger loose, if every dey git dey hands on ’im. And dis very quarters boss was Cap’n on de gang where Ah wuz. Me and him ain’t never gointer set hawses.”12 So he went on singing:
All day long, you heard me moan
Don’t you tell my Cap’n which way I gone
Ah’m gointer lose dis right hand shackle from ’round my leg.
You work me late, you work me soon
Some time you work me by de light of de moon
Ah’m gointer lose dis right hand shackle from ’round my leg.
I learned several other songs. Thanks to James Presley and Slim; and Gene Oliver and his sister brought me many additional tales.
But the very next pay-night when I went to a dance at the Pine Mill, Lucy tried to steal me. That is the local term for an attack by stealth. Big Sweet saved me and urged me to stay on, assuring me that she could always defend me, but I shivered at the thought of dying with a knife in my back, or having my face mutilated. At any rate, I had made a very fine and full collection on the Saw-Mill Camp, so I felt no regrets at shoving off.
The last night at Loughman was very merry. We had a party at Mrs. Allen’s. James Presley and Slim with their boxes; Joe Willard calling figures in his best mood. Because it was a special occasion and because I was urged, I actually took a sip of low-wine and found out how very low it was. The dancing stopped and I was hilariously toted off to bed and the party moved to my bedroom. We had had a rain flood early in the afternoon and a medium size rattlesnake had come in out of the wet. I had thrown away a pile of worn out stockings and he was asleep upon them there in the corner by the washstand. The boys wanted to kill it, but I begged them not to hurt my lowly brother. He rattled away for a while, but when everybody got around the bed on the far end of the room and got quiet, he mov
ed in the manner of an hour-hand to a crack where the floor and wall had separated, and popped out of sight.
Cliffert told me the last Loughman story around midnight.
“Zora, did yuh ever hear ’bout Jack and de Devil buckin’ ’ginst one ’nother to see which one was de strongest?”
“Naw. Ah done heard a lot about de Devil and dat Jack, but not dat tale you know. Tell it.”
Jack and de Devil wuz settin’ down under a tree one day arguin’ ’bout who was de strongest. De Devil got tired of talkin’ and went and picked up a mule. Jack went and picked up de same mule. De Devil run to a great big old oak tree and pulled it up by de roots. Jack grabbed holt of one jus’ as big and pulled it up. De Devil broke a anchor cable. Jack took it and broke it agin.
So de Devil says, “Shucks! Dis ain’t no sho nuff trial. Dis is chillun foolishness. Meet me out in dat hund’ed acre clearin’ tomorrow mornin’ at nine o’clock and we’ll see who kin throw mah hammer de furtherest. De one do dat is de strongest.”
Jack says, “Dat suits me.”
So nex’ mawnin’ de Devil wuz dere on time wid his hammer. It wuz bigger’n de white folks church house in Winter Park. A whole heap uh folks had done come out tuh see which one would win.
Jack wuz late. He come gallopin’ up on hawseback and reined in de hawse so short till he reared up his hind legs.
Jack jumped off and says: “Wese all heah, le’s go. Who goin’ first?”
De Devil tole ’im, “Me. Everybody stand back and gimme room.”
So he throwed de hammer and it went so high till it went clean outa sight. Devil tole ’em, “Iss Tuesday now. Y’all go home and come back Thursday mornin’ at nine. It won’t fall till then.”
Sho ’nuff de hammer fell on Thursday mornin’ at nine o’clock and knocked out a hole big as Polk County.
Dey lifted de hammer out de hole and levelled it and it wuz Jack’s time to throw.
Jack took his time and walked ’round de hammer to de handle and took holt of it and throwed his head back and looked up at de sky.
“Look out, Rayfield! Move over, Gabriel! You better stand ’way back, Jesus! Ah’m fixin’ to throw.” He meant Heaven.
Devil run up to ’im, says, “Hold on dere a minute! Don’t you throw mah damn hammer up dere! Ah left a whole lot uh mah tools up dere when dey put me out and Ah ain’t got ’em back yet. Don’t you throw mah hammer up dere!”
TEN
So I left most of my things at Loughman and ran down in the phosphate country around Mulberry. Around Mulberry, Pierce and Lakeland, I collected a mass of children’s tales and games. The company operating the mines at Pierce maintains very excellent living conditions in their quarters. The cottages are on clean, tree-lined streets. There is a good hospital and a nine-months school. They will not employ a boy under seventeen so that the parents are not tempted to put minors to work. There is a cheerful community center with a large green-covered table for crap games under a shady oak.
We held a lying contest out under the trees in the night time, some sitting, some standing, everybody in a jolly mood. Mack C. Ford proved to be a mighty story teller before the Lord.
I found out about creation from him. The tail of the porpoise is on crosswise and he explains the mystery of that.
“Zora, did you ever see a porpoise?”
“Yep. Many times.”
“Didja ever notice his tail?”
“Don’t b’lieve Ah did. He moves so fast till Ah don’t remember much except seeing him turning somersault and shootin’ up and down de Indian River like lightnin’ thru de trees.”
Well, it’s on crossways. Every other fish got his tail on straight but de porpoise. His is on crossways and bent down lak dis. (He bent down the fingers of his left hand sharply from the knuckles.)
De reason for dat is, God made de world and de sky and de birds and animals and de fishes. He finished off de stars and de trees.
Den He made a gold track clear ’round de world and greased it, and called de sun to Him and says, “Now Sun, Ah done made everything but Time and Ah want you to make dat. Ah made dat gold track for you to run on and Ah want you to git on it and go ’round de world jus’ as fas’ as you kin stave it and de time it take you to go and come Ah’m gointer call it ‘day’ and ‘night.’”
De porpoise was standin’ ’round and heard God when He spoke to de sun. So he says, “B’lieve Ah’ll take dat trip around de world myself.”
So de sun lit out and de porpoise took out. Him and him! ’Round de world—lickety split!
So de porpoise beat de sun ’round de world by a hour and three minutes.
When God seen dat He shook His head and says, “Unh, unh! Dis ain’t gointer do. Ah never meant for nothin’ to be faster than de sun.”
So He took out behind dat porpoise and run him for three days and nights befo’ He overtook him. But when he did ketch dat ole porpoise He grabbed him by de tail and snatched it off and set it back on crossways to slow him up. He can’t beat de sun no mo’ but he’s de next fastest thing in de world.
Everybody laughed one of those blow-out laughs, so Mack Ford said, “Mah lyin’ done got good tuh me, so Ahm gointer tell yuh how come de dawg hates de cat.”
De dog and de cat used to live next door to one ’nother and both of ’em loved ham. Every time they git a chance they’d buy a slice of ham.
One time both of ’em got holt of a li’l extry change so de dog said to de cat, “Sis Cat, we both got a li’l money, and it would be fine if bofe of us could buy a ham apiece. But neither one of us ain’t got enough money to buy a whole ham by ourselves. Why don’t we put our money together and buy us a ham together?”
“Aw right, Brer Dawg. T’morrer begin’ Sat’day, le’s we go to town and git ourselves a ham.”
So de next day they went to town and bought de ham. They didn’t have no convenience so they had to walk and tote it. De dawg toted it first and he said as he walked up de road wid de ham over his shoulder, “Ours! Ours! Ours! Our ham!”
After while it was de cat’s time to tote de meat. She said, “My ham, my ham, my ham.” Dawg heard her but he didn’t say nothin’.
When de dawg took it agin he says, “Ours, ours, our ham!” Cat toted it and says, “My ham, my ham.”
Dawg says, “Sis Cat, how come you keep on sayin’ ‘My ham’ when you totes our meat. Ah always say, ‘Our ham.’”
De Cat didn’t turn him no answer, but every time she toted de ham she’d say “My ham” and every time de dawg toted it he’d say “Ours.”
When they was almost home, de cat was carryin’ de ham and all of a sudden she sprung up a tree and set up there eatin’ up de ham. De dawg did all he could to stop her, but he couldn’t clim’ and so he couldn’t do nothin’ but bark. But he tole de cat, “You up dat tree eatin’ all de ham, and Ah can’t git to you. But when you come down ahm gointer make you take dis Indian River for uh dusty road.”
“Didja ever pass off much time round de railroad camps, Zora?” asked Mr. Ford.
“Ah been round dere some.”
“Ah wuz jus’ fixin’ tuh tell yuh if you ain’t been there you missed some good singin’, well ez some good lyin’. Ever hear dat song bout ‘Gointer See my Long-haired Babe’?”1
“Naw, but ah sho wisht ah had. Can you sing it?”
“Sho can and then ahm gointer do it too, and that one bout ‘Oh Lulu, oh Gal.’”
“Ah know you want to hear some more stories, don’t you? Ah know ah feels lak tellin’ some.”
“Unh hunh,” I agreed.
“Don’t you know dat’s one word de Devil made up?”
“Nope, Ah had never heard about it. It’s a mighty useful word Ah know for lazy folks like me.”
“Yes, everybody says ‘unh hunh’ and Ah’ll tell you why.” He cleared his throat and continued:
Ole Devil looked around hell one day and seen his place was short of help so he thought he’d run up to Heben and kidnap some angels to keep things runnin�
� tell he got reinforcements from Miami.
Well, he slipped up on a great crowd of angels on de outskirts of Heben and stuffed a couple of thousand in his mouth, a few hundred under each arm and wrapped his tail ’round another thousand and darted off towards hell.
When he was flyin’ low over de earth lookin’ for a place to land, a man looked up and seen de Devil and ast ’im, “Ole Devil, Ah see you got a load of angels. Is you goin’ back for mo’?”
Devil opened his mouth and tole ’im, “Yeah,” and all de li’l angels flew out of his mouf and went on back to Heben. While he was tryin’ to ketch ’em he lost all de others. So he went back after another load.
He was flyin’ low agin and de same man seen him and says, “Ole Devil, Ah see you got another load uh angels.”
Devil nodded his head and said “unh hunh,” and dat’s why we say it today.
“Dat’s a fine story. Tell me some more.”
“Ah’m gointer tell you all about Big Sixteen and High Walker and Bloody Bones but first Ah want to ask you a question.”
“All right, go ahead and ask me.”
“Zora, why do you think dese li’l slim women was put on earth?”
“Couldn’t tell you to save my life.”
“Well, dese slim ones was put here to beautify de world.”
“De big ones musta been put here for de same reason.”
“Ah, naw, Zora. Ah don’t agree wid you there.”
“Well then, what was they put here for?”
“To show dese slim girls how far they kin stretch without bustin’.”
Everybody out under the trees laughed except Good Bread. She took in a whole lot of breath and added to herself. Then she rolled her eyes and said, “Mack Ford, Ah don’t come in yo’ conversation atall. You jus’ leave me out yo’ mouf. And furthermo’ Ah don’t crack.”
“Nobody ain’t called yo name, Good Bread, Ah wuz jus’ passin’ uh joke.”
“Oh yes you wuz hintin’ at me.”
Mules and Men Page 16