The Sharecropper Prodigy

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The Sharecropper Prodigy Page 10

by Malone, David Lee


  “You’re good with numbers, boy. I need a bunch more like you.” He stuck out his hand. “Max McGee’s the name. You may hate that name before this job is done, but I try my best to be fair as long as a man gives me an honest days work.” He paused and looked over at some of the other workers. “Ben, you’re the first negro I’ve hired and some of the other men will probably give you a hard time. If that happens, or hell, when it happens, just let me know and I’ll set their asses straight.”

  *****

  New Years Day, 1940, came in with little fanfare for me and Ben. The only perceptible differences was that we didn’t have to work and the supper Mrs. Walker made that night. We had hog jowls and black-eyed peas, which traditionally was supposed to bring good luck for the coming year, or at least that’s what folks in the south believed. Me and Ben ate all we could hold. Our luck had definitely changed for the better, even if we were both homesick. Mrs. Walker had a telephone, so I’d called my Uncle Joe at the store and told him to give my Aunt Mary Kate and Ben’s sister, Nellie, the number so they could reach us if they needed us. By the end of January, Aunt Mary Kate had already called a dozen times and Nellie had called Ben a few times. Everything at home seemed to be fine.

  Nellie told Ben to stop sending so much money home and save some for his education. She said they had all they needed and were even about to get indoor plumbing in the little shack. She also said that all her brothers were putting on weight since they were eating better than they ever had. I wish I could have said the same thing for Ben. If anything he had lost weight, and it was more noticeable because he was growing taller. Ben had very little time to waste on things like eating and sleeping. He had almost killed himself learning everything he could about reading blueprints and the construction business. Mack McGee knew he could never make Ben a crew boss even though Ben now knew about as much as he did. So instead, he made me one, even though Ben was the one calling all the shots. I gave Ben half the raise I received. I tried to give him the whole thing, but he wouldn’t hear of it.

  Fortune had smiled on Ben in another way. A way that he considered much better than the accomplishments he had made on the job. It turned out that Mrs. Walker was raised in Boston by a prominent family and had graduated from Radcliffe College. That was how she had met her husband, Herman, who was a graduate of Harvard. Her library was much more extensive than Mr. Winston’s, and what she didn’t have, she could get. She and Ben had become the best of friends and were inseparable when Ben wasn’t at work. She had become his new Rachel, though nobody would ever be able to replace the old one in his heart. She had even insisted that Ben and I both start calling her by her given name, which was Abby, short for Abigail. Abby was amazed at Ben’s erudition and was constantly calling him a prodigy. “There are not one in one-hundred thousand like Ben,” she told me. “Probably not one in a million. He could easily make it through the curriculum at Radcliffe or even Harvard. Herman made it through Harvard and he wasn’t a third as intelligent as Ben on any subject. I thought he was just daydreaming when he talked about enrolling at Morehouse, but he would have no trouble at all with the entrance exam.”

  The men at work, with the exception of two or three troublemakers, had accepted Ben as almost an equal. The fact that he was ten times smarter than any of them still didn’t quite bring him up to their level. But most of the men admired him because he never flaunted his intelligence and was quick to give other men credit for something that had been his idea all along. There wasn’t anybody, including myself, who worked harder and was more conscientious than Ben. He took pride in even the most menial tasks and never shirked his duty, no matter how hard or how dirty it was.

  *****

  The troublemakers who didn’t like Ben, or more appropriately, hated him, were not much good for anything else, except making excuses. They were hard drinkers and would show up for work either hung over or still half drunk from the night before. They knew if they tried to do anything to Ben at work, that half the men would pounce on them as quick as lightning striking. There only chance was to lay for him either in the morning or evening when he was going to or from work. Since they always felt like hammered shit in the morning, they decided evening would be best.

  The fourteenth day of February had been a fairly warm day that had ended a week long cold snap. Me and Ben were on our way home and he was in a hurry, as usual. Abby had found him a new book on physics and he was like a kid getting his first pony ride. We were joking as we talked about it being Valentine’s Day and neither of us having a sweetheart. I had one, its just that her, or nobody else on earth, knew it. I had even contemplated sending her some candy or something, but chickened out.

  The old alley we past by everyday always had a smell like stale piss and week old sweat. The sun was going down and casting long shadows on the sides of the frame houses and brick buildings and made the alley look as dark as a water well.

  From somewhere in the darkness, the nasally voice of Pete Ward called out, “Hey, nigger. Who said you could walk by our alley and not pay us a toll? You’re in white man territory now, smart boy.”

  Then the one with five or six rotten teeth, whose name I could never remember, yelled, “What does it feel like to be the only nigger in the world who can read?” Pete and the third man, whose name was Ronald, started laughing hysterically. Ronald said, “Them scientists could prob’ly train a monkey to read. I think they already did, boy, ’cause you look an awful lot like a monkey.”

  Ben looked at me and said, “Let’s just keep walkin’. Ain’t no use in even acknowledging them drunken rednecks.”

  We picked up our pace but we didn’t run. I wasn’t about to give them the satisfaction of seeing me or Ben run. Just as we were about to turn the corner I heard something whiz by my ear and heard a sickening thud. The brick had hit Ben squarely in the back of the head. He dropped to his knees like a sack of salt, then fell on his face on the dirty pavement. I kneeled down beside him and saw that he had been knocked as cold as a wedge. I jumped up and grabbed the brick the cowardly bastard had thrown, intending on beating them within an inch of their miserable lives with it. They had started running when they saw Ben fall, probably thinking they had hurt him badly or even killed him.

  “I’m gonna beat the livin’ hell out of all three of y’all!” I yelled. “You son-of-a-bitches better not show up at work tomorrow. I’ll find you wherever you go, you bastards!”

  I squatted back down and saw that Ben was breathing. His head was bleeding from the wound, but not badly. There was a giant knot that had swelled up on the back of his head, however. I started slapping his face gently and he began to moan.

  “Ben. Ben, can you hear me? I asked quietly, though I’m not sure why I was trying to stay quiet after the way I’d just yelled.

  “R..Rachel,” Ben groaned.

  “No, it’s Tom, Ben. Are you alright?”

  “What…what happened? Where did those rednecks go?”

  “The cowards ran off. You just lie still and let me get help.”

  Ben raised up and sat on his butt. “No, I..I’m alright. Just help me up. Who hit me?”

  “One of them threw a brick. I’m gonna stomp their asses if they show up at work tomorrow.”

  Ben finally got to his feet, but he was unsteady. I put my arm around him and we started walking slowly toward home. I knew Abby would take care of him and call a doctor once we got there.

  “Why do people always want to hurt me, Tom? I try as hard as I can to be good to everybody.”

  “I know you do, Ben. Some people are just ignorant, that’s all. That’s their problem, not yours.”

  “A man can’t do anything about the color of his skin, Tom. Don’t people know that? I wish sometimes I was white, but that ain’t the way the Good Lord made me. And He don’t make mistakes, Tom.” There were tears welling up in Ben’s eyes. I got a tighter hold on Ben and we started walking a little faster. God didn’t make mistakes and everything would be alright when we got home.


  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Ben wouldn’t even consider getting on the bus and going across town to the Morehouse College campus without me, even though Abby was going too. I think he was still shaken up from the encounter we had with the lowlife rednecks on the way home from work a couple of weeks before. The cowards never showed their faces at work again. I’m sure that was the best job they had ever had, or were likely to ever get, and they had thrown it away for a few minutes of inebriated fun, ganging up like a pack of wolves on a fourteen year old negro boy. I was certain they would remain worthless white trash the rest of their miserable lives.

  We arrived at the Dean of Admissions office early. The dean’s secretary told us to have a seat and that Dr. Goodman would be in shortly. Ben was as nervous as I had ever seen him. This was what he’d waited for since he was old enough to begin dreaming of a college education. Now, here he was at one of the most prestigious black colleges in the country about to see the man who could make his dreams come true, or shatter them. Abby could sense Ben’s anxiety, which wasn’t difficult considering he couldn’t sit still for more than a minute before he would get up and start pacing.

  “Sit down and try to relax, Ben,” she said. “The dean is going to be very impressed with you. I promise, you have nothing to worry about.”

  “I just took a day off from work and forfeited a days wages on a gamble,” Ben said. “If they won’t accept me, I have let everybody down.”

  “You haven’t let anyone down, Ben. No matter how it turns out, you are the most responsible and considerate person I know. You just have to remain positive like you always are.”

  I was almost as nervous as Ben. He was my best friend in the world and I wanted to see his dream come true. A year earlier, neither of us ever dreamed this day would come so soon. I knew nothing short of death would keep Ben from a college education one day, but I also knew he would never leave his family to fend for themselves. All the terrible things that had happened with Rube and Ben’s family being forced to move, had caused things to turn out for the good. I guess every cloud does have a silver lining.

  I looked at my watch. It seemed like we had been waiting for an hour, but to my surprise it had only been fifteen minutes.

  I put my watch back in my pocket and picked up a magazine from the polished walnut table beside where I was seated. I had just started thumbing through the pages when the secretary came out and told us Dr. Goodman had just arrived.

  “He’s very busy today and would like to know the purpose of your visit. He usually sees people by appointment only.”

  This was the response Abby said we could expect. But if we had written or called to request enrollment for a fourteen year old boy who had never attended high school, they would have never responded.

  “Just tell him Abigail Walker would like to see him on a private matter. I am the widow of Herman Walker, who was a well known attorney in Atlanta. He and I made several charitable donations to your fine school.”

  Although Abby didn’t say she might be making another donation, she didn’t say she wouldn’t either. The voice of money speaks very succinctly and can usually drowns out any clatter.

  The secretary looked us over one at a time and I’m sure wondered what part me and Ben played in this potential act of benevolence. “I’ll let him know,” she said, forcing a smile.

  We only had to wait another couple of minutes before Dr. Goodman himself stepped out into the foyer. The smile on his face displayed one of the most impressive sets of teeth I had ever seen. It was immediately obvious that Dr. Goodman had some white ancestors somewhere in his family tree. His hair was almost straight and his eyes were a pale green. His skin wasn’t much darker than mine got in the summertime.

  “Good morning, Mrs. Walker, and how are you today?” His voice sounded like one of the newsmen I’d heard on the radio.

  “I’m fine, Dr. Goodman. And you?” Abby responded, smiling pleasantly. Her prominent dimples made her look like she was still in her teens.

  “I’m so sorry you had to wait. Please, do come into my office.”

  We let Abby go first and followed behind her like two little puppies. Dr. Goodman had the nicest office I’d ever been in. Of course I hadn’t been in very many offices at the time, but I couldn’t imagine one being much more impressive. All his accolades were spaced out on all four walls so no matter where you looked you were bound to see at least a couple of them. I saw his diploma from Morehouse and his doctorate from Howard University in Washington, D.C. There were numerous other awards and certificates of appreciation that I’m sure were well deserved and he was proud of.

  Abby and Ben sat down in the leather chairs across from his desk that were big enough for two people. I had a seat on a sofa behind them.

  “To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit today, Mrs. Walker?” the dean asked, still smiling from ear to ear.

  “I have someone very interested in attending your fine institution,” Abby said. “I know he will be a most welcome addition to your student body as well as a great asset.”

  Dr. Williams smile noticeably relaxed when he heard the reason for Abby’s visit. But it didn’t disappear completely. I guess he thought there was still a sliver of hope for a donation of some sort.

  “And who is this fine young man?” he asked.

  “His name is Benjamin Franklin Evans, sir,” Abby said nodding at Ben. I imagine she thought using Ben’s full name would be more impressive. Especially since he had been named for one of the most beloved historical figures in the country, and most of the world.

  Dr. Goodman offered his hand and Ben took it, shaking it timidly.

  “How do you do, Mr. Evans? And when do you plan on attending our school? Do you graduate from high school this year?”

  Ben tried his best to look confident, but was overwhelmed by his surroundings and a man of his own race that had achieved so much. This was the first black man Ben had ever known that had even graduated high school.

  “No, sir. I…I never attended high school, sir. Where I live in Alabama there was only one school for black children and I was able to attend about seven years. The curriculum offered was not very advanced, so I guess you could say I was self educated with the help of a very dear friend named Rachel Winston. Her father owned the property where we lived and worked.”

  Dr. Goodman nodded. “I see. So your family are tenant farmers then?”

  “Sharecroppers, sir. We didn’t own any of the equipment we used to plant or harvest our crops and Mr. Winston bought our seed and fertilizer, so I believe the appropriate term would be sharecropper.”

  “Uh huh. I see. Well, I would really like to help you, Mrs. Walker,” Dr. Goodman said, turning his attention back to Abby, “but I just don’t see how Mr. Evans could possibly be ready for an institution like ours. Our curriculum is very rigorous, you see. Perhaps if it were possible for him to attend one of our local high schools, and with some tutoring….”

  “Dr. Goodman, I know what you’re thinking and I can’t say I blame you. You don’t see how it could be possible for a boy Ben’s age, who has had little formal education, to have anywhere near the knowledge and capability to keep up with the other students. My first impression of him was precisely the same as yours, I can assure you. But he and Tom have been boarding at my home for two months now, and I can tell you I have never seen anyone like him. I graduated, with highest honors I might add, from Radcliffe, and my husband from Harvard. I would bet everything I own that not only could he master the curriculum at either of those institutions, but he would probably be at the top of his class. The only word I can think of to describe him is prodigy. He is a prodigy, sir.”

  Abby shifted in her chair, waiting for a response.

  “Alright, Mrs. Walker. Let’s say you’re right, and mind you I don’t doubt your sincerity in the least. There is the question of tuition. How will he be able to afford the costs?” Dr. Goodman spoke directly to Abby, ignoring Ben.

  “Why don’t
you ask him?” she answered, nodding once again at Ben.

  “Okay, Benjamin. What’s your answer?”

  “Well, sir. I was hoping to obtain a scholarship of some kind, even if it were only partial. I have a job that pays good wages and…..”

  “Surely you don’t think you can work a full time job and keep up with your studies,” the dean interrupted. “Most students have a difficult time just holding down a part time job. As far as a scholarship goes, well, they are very scarce indeed, considering we are still in an economic depression. Your only chance would be to have a very impressive score on your entrance exam.”

  “Does that mean you are going to let him take the entrance exam then?” Abby asked.

  “Well, uh….I suppose I could, but I…I just don’t know if he’s mature enough for a college environment, even if he could pass the exam. And there is still the question of tuition.”

  “Dr. Goodman, this young man has moved away from his home and managed to find a decent job, earning more than most grown men in Georgia. I don’t think maturity is an issue. As for tuition, any shortfalls that might occur, I will personally make up the difference.”

  Dr. Goodman looked as if he didn’t know what to say. All of his objections had been countered. He wasn’t about to risk angering a potential donor who had already proven themselves in the past.

  “Alright. I’ll agree to let Mr. Evans take the exam. Just be warned that it is going to be difficult for someone who doesn’t have much formal education. I just don’t want you to get your hopes up too high. Now, Mr. Evans, when would you like to schedule your test? Maybe next fall?”

  Ben looked at Abby as if he wanted her to answer for him, but she wanted Ben to speak for himself. “Would it be possible for me to take it today?” Ben asked. “I mean, I..I’ve already missed a days work, anyway.”

  Dr. Goodman clasps his hands behind his head. He was thinking it might be better to go ahead and get this over with and not be bothered by it again, once this boy failed the exam.

 

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