Passing Through Perfect

by Bette Lee Crosby

  Breakfast was nearly a half-hour later than usual, and when Sidney took his place at the head of the table he was smiling. Before Benjamin had a chance to speak his mind, Sidney said he’d just finished talking with his old friend, Marty Hinckley. He glanced at Carmella and smiled. “You remember Marty, don’t you?”

  Carmella nodded and returned the smile.

  “Marty and I go way back,” Sid said nostalgically. “We went to school together in New York.”

  “You lived in New York?” The surprise in Benjamin’s voice was obvious. He’d never pictured Sidney anywhere but right here in this house.

  “I sure did,” Sid answered, “Brooklyn. Marty and I started riding the subway when we were just teenagers.” In words that were warmed by memories, he told stories of the fun they’d had going to shows in Manhattan and visiting the concession stands at Coney Island. He gave a raucous laugh. “You wouldn’t believe the bathing suits ladies wore back then.”

  Although to others at the table it may have appeared Benjamin was hanging on every word, he was actually thinking through an idea that had come to mind. Would it be too much, he wondered, to ask for one last favor? With Marty being a Northerner, maybe he’d be willing to suggest a place where they could settle, a place where he could find work.

  As Benjamin considered the best way of phrasing such a request, Sidney gave a nostalgic sigh and said, “Then I moved down here to Virginia, and Marty moved to Pittsburgh.”

  Benjamin felt a whoosh of disappointment slide across his heart.

  Sidney noticed.

  “Marty loves it in Pittsburgh,” he added. “He’s got a real nice business and was doing great until he had that heart attack last month.” Despite the way Sidney allowed the words to sound a bit remorseful, a strange sad-but-happy look remained on his face.

  Carmella wore that same crooked smile when she said, “Come on, Sidney, get to the point.”

  Sidney nodded then looked at Benjamin. “I’m going to ask a favor,” he said. “You don’t owe me and you can say no if you want to, but I owe Marty so I’ve got to ask.”

  Benjamin set the strip of bacon back on his plate and leaned in.

  Unfolding the story word by word, Sidney explained how Marty owned a small airport on the edge of Pittsburgh and needed a man with a good understanding of motors and engines.

  “I’m not gonna lie,” he said. “It can be long days, but the job comes with a piece of farmland and a nice little house right there next to the airport.”

  “You figure he’d be willing to hire a colored man?” Benjamin asked.

  Sidney stretched his arm across the table and placed his hand on top of Benjamin’s. “When I told him how you’d fixed that old refrigerator, he said you were exactly what he was hoping for.”

  Benjamin gave a grin that stretched the full way across his face. “That sounds real good, Mister Sidney. Real good.”

  Martha

  I went over and told Carmella how sorry I was for causing her all that trouble. I half expected her to toss me out on my ear, but she didn’t. Instead she put her arms around me and gave me a hug that was a lot sweeter than I deserved. Her doing that made me feel more ashamed than I already was.

  When I got back home I started thinking about all this mad I’ve been carrying around inside of me. No mama deserves to see her boy die, ’specially not in such an ugly way. When it happened to my Tommy, it was a whole lot easier to blame colored folks than believe my boy could have been up to no good himself.

  I ain’t making excuses for myself; I’m just saying how it was.

  After listening to how that poor Benjamin lost his wife, I can tell he’s hurting bad as me. Maybe worse. At least I got justice for what was done to Tommy; he didn’t even get that. In my mind that’s a bitter pill to swallow.

  Seeing things in the light of day, I guess I’d be okay with him staying. Of course it’s too late for that now.

  I tore up Darlene’s petition. Ripped it into tiny little pieces that couldn’t ever be pasted back together. That’s what it deserves, but it ain’t much in the way of making amends. The only other thing I can do now is hope that poor man finds a good life for him and his boy. That ain’t much either, but it’s all I got to give.

  The Goodbye

  Given the excitement that followed such an announcement, that morning’s breakfast lasted until almost ten-thirty. Sidney continued telling stories of Marty, and Benjamin asked question after question. Even after the last piece of bacon disappeared from the table, they continued to sit and sip coffee. Three times Carmella refilled the cups, and after all the biscuits were gone she brought out a basket of fresh-baked corn muffins.

  “I was kind of rushed,” she admitted sheepishly, “so these are from a mix.”

  Sidney told all he could think of to tell about Marty Hinckley, his wife, Elsie, and the small airport. When nothing else came to mind, he tugged Benjamin into the den and placed a call to Pittsburgh.

  “I thought you fellows might like to talk to one another,” he said and handed the receiver to Benjamin.

  Martin Hinckley’s voice was husky and jovial. When he gave out a roll of laughter, Benjamin knew it was something that came from deep down inside.

  “I’m mighty glad to have this job,” Benjamin said.

  Echoing Benjamin’s words, Marty replied, “Well, I’m mighty glad to have you.” From another person it might have had the sound of mockery, but Marty’s way of saying it made the words feel as comforting as a thick warm stew.

  Klaussner’s Grocery Store never opened that day. It was after eleven when Paul and Sidney went down and taped a note to the front door. Klaussner’s closed for the day, it read. Sorry for any inconvenience this may cause.

  They spent close to two hours in the store, but neither of them swept the floor or wiped the counters. Instead they pulled cans and boxes from the shelves and stacked them one on top of the other.

  “Should I include syrup and pancake mix?” Paul asked.

  Sid nodded. “Don’t forget a dozen cans of green beans, some Spam, and a box of Velveeta.”

  By the time two o’clock rolled around the trunk of Sid’s car was filled with enough food to last a month, maybe more. Tucked in among the foodstuffs were several candy bars, a box of cleanser, and three bars of soap.

  Jubilee, who’d cried at the thought of Isaac leaving, was allowed to skip school that day. She went with them when Carmella took Benjamin and Isaac to the Saint Vincent DePaul thrift shop.

  “Pittsburgh gets cold,” Carmella said, and she’d insisted on seeing they had the proper type of clothing.

  Margaret Thumper ran the shop and was a close friend of Carmella. She was happy to help. Once she heard what they were looking for, she disappeared into the back room and returned with armful after armful of jackets, coats, and sweaters. Although sorting through all those clothes took nearly three hours, Isaac came away with eight wool sweaters, three pairs of corduroy pants, two pairs of jeans, an assortment of shirts, boots, mittens, and a parka that was toasty enough to bake muffins.

  Benjamin settled for a single sweater, a heavy jacket, and three long-sleeve shirts. Although he now had more than one hundred dollars, he knew the money would be needed for traveling and getting settled. When it came time to pay he pulled the bills from his pocket and asked how much.

  Margaret Thumper laughed. “Nothing,” she said. “This is an exchange shop. People bring in the things they don’t need, and others come and take what they do need.”

  Looking a bit bewildered, Benjamin asked, “For free?”

  “Unh-huh.” Margaret nodded.

  Carmella gave a sly wink and smiled.

  The remainder of the afternoon was spent loading Benjamin’s truck. Although he’d arrived with a toolbox, a rocking chair, and few boxes of next to nothing, the flatbed of the truck was now packed tight with food, clothes, boxes of cookware, dishes, and towels, all things Carmella claimed she no longer needed. Once everything was in place, they anchored
a heavy black tarpaulin to cover it all.

  It was close to four o’clock when Benjamin and Isaac said goodbye to the Klaussners, and every eye was a bit tearful.

  “Drive carefully,” Sid advised. “It’s about four hundred and fifty miles, and Marty isn’t expecting you until late Friday or sometime Saturday, so you’ve got plenty of time for stops.”

  Carmella hugged Benjamin to her chest and pressed a twenty-dollar bill into the palm of his hand. “It’s too cold for that boy to be camping outside, so promise me you’ll stay the night in a proper motel.”

  Benjamin didn’t see the need for such a thing, but he nonetheless promised. There was no way he could not promise a woman like Carmella. He and Isaac climbed into the truck, and as he pulled away from the curb he turned back for one last look.

  Sidney, Carmella, Paul, and Jubilee stood on the edge of the front porch, their arms raised in one final goodbye, tears glistening in their eyes, and a look of sadness tugging at their faces. It was a picture that would stay with Benjamin for the rest of his life. When Isaac became a grown man and grandchildren nested on Benjamin’s knee, he would still be telling the story of their stay at the Klaussners’.

  ~ ~ ~

  That afternoon Henry Jacobs stopped by the store. He’d left work mid-afternoon claiming a headache, which wasn’t far from the truth. It would be easier, he figured, to casually wander in on the pretext of needing cigarettes or a packet of Bromo-Seltzer than to go, hat in hand, knocking on Sidney Klaussner’s door. He was knee-deep in shame over the way he’d been fool enough to go along with the petition, but coming out with a full-fledged apology pinched like tight underwear. Doing it this way he could start up a conversation, ignoring the events of last night, then work his way around to saying he’d changed his mind about the petition and was withdrawing his name. When he saw the sign taped to the door of the store, he began to worry.

  First he rattled the door, but there was no answer and the inside of the store remained dark, so he walked down the street and telephoned the Klaussners’ house.

  With everyone outside packing things into Benjamin’s truck, the telephone rang and rang with no answer. For an hour-and-a-half Henry drove around wondering what to do, and when he could come up with no solution he decided to return home. Passing the Klaussner house he slowed to little more than a crawl, thinking he might catch Sid in the front yard. There was no one outside, and the blue truck was gone.

  After another sleepless night, Henry knocked on the Klaussners’ front door at seven o’clock the next morning. He was alone.

  Sid opened the door, expecting more of what happened two days ago.

  Without looking directly into his friend’s face, Henry said, “I’m truly ashamed for taking part in that ugliness.”

  Sid pulled the door back and asked him in.

  During the last forty-eight hours Henry had done a fair bit of soul-searching, and he’d come to the conclusion that a full-fledged apology was warranted.

  “If you was to toss me out, I’d understand,” he said. “I ain’t expecting forgiveness. But I wanted you to know I’m ashamed of what I did.”

  He blamed it on his own stupidity and Mildred’s advice. After he’d stumbled through several minutes of up and down apologies, he said if the Klaussners wanted the colored man living in their house he was gonna stand with them.

  “For all the bullshit that’s gone on,” he said, “the bottom line is it’s your house and you can do what you will with it.”

  Sidney waited as Henry sputtered and stammered through a litany of excuses, then he said, “Benjamin’s already gone.”

  “Gone?”

  Sid nodded. “He left yesterday afternoon.”

  “Because of what happened?”

  “No. That was his plan all along. He only stayed to help us in the store.”

  “Then why didn’t you say something?” Henry asked. “Why didn’t you tell those crazies—”

  “I didn’t think I had to,” Sid replied. “Those people were our friends. I thought they’d understand and accept my belief in a man as truth.”

  They stood and talked for a long while. It wasn’t a warmhearted conversation; it was simply the groundwork that would eventually lead back to friendship. When there was nothing more to say, they shook hands and turned back to the door. Sid opened the door, and as Henry passed by Sid reached out and clapped a hand on his shoulder.

  “Don’t worry,” he said, “we’ll get through this in time.”

  Sidney

  Standing on the porch and watching Benjamin drive away left an empty feeling inside of me. It wasn’t just me; I could see it on Carmella and Paul’s faces also. Little Jubilee was flat out crying. That’s the good thing about being a kid; you’re not ashamed to let your emotions stick out in the open.

  I know leaving is what was best for them, and I think Benjamin’s going to be thrilled when he finds out what Marty has in store for him. Sometimes what we want and what’s best for somebody we care about just isn’t the same thing. It’s that age-old saying about if you love something you’ve got to set it free.

  But I can tell you this. If Benjamin had decided to stay, I would have fought tooth and nail to keep him and Isaac safe. I’m not a man given to flowery words and statements, but so help me God, I will never forget what he did for our Paul. Neither will Carmella.

  Road Trip

  When they left Wyattsville, Benjamin and Isaac rode in silence for a long while. Isaac still wore the catcher’s mitt Paul gave him on his left hand. He kept tossing the baseball from one hand to the other, back and forth, back and forth.

  “You think they got a baseball team in Pittsburgh?” he asked.

  Benjamin nodded. “Pittsburgh Pirates. They’re pretty good, according to Marty.”

  “You figure we can go see a game?”

  “In the spring, maybe. They don’t play in the wintertime.”

  “What’s kids in Pittsburgh do in the winter?”

  Benjamin shrugged. “Build snowmen maybe.”

  On that first day they traveled almost two hundred miles. They went north through Virginia then crossed over the eastern edge of West Virginia and stopped before they got to Morgantown. Benjamin had anticipated he’d be further down the road, but with no sleep the night before and a day crammed full of shopping, doing, and packing, his eyelids were too heavy to continue.

  Thinking back on his promise to Carmella, he pulled off the road and into the parking lot of the Mountain Way Motel. The sign blinked “Vacancy”, but there was no other sign indicating whether colored people were welcome.

  “Wait here,” Benjamin told Isaac as he climbed out of the truck. He walked around the building looking for a back door or a sign; there was nothing. He returned to the front of the building, pushed open the door, and peeked in. Behind the desk was an elderly woman with a topknot of cotton white hair. Her skin was the pale color of Delia’s.

  “You looking for a room?” she asked.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Benjamin answered.

  “Eight dollars ’n you get free breakfast.”

  Benjamin smiled. “I got my boy with me, that okay?”

  “The room just got one bed,” she answered. “But it’s a big one.”

  Perhaps it was force of habit. Perhaps the cautionary fear of overstepping the boundaries he’d known all the years of his life. It’s impossible to say what prompted him to do it, but Benjamin suddenly blurted out, “I’m colored.”

  The desk clerk chuckled. “I’m old, but I ain’t blind. Now if you want that room, get over here and sign the register.”

  Benjamin moved to the desk and signed his name. The old woman fished a key from the cubby behind her and handed it to him. “Cabin six.”

  As he walked out the front door, he felt a strange new sense of pride. It was a first in this new life.

  That night Benjamin slept soundly. There were no more decisions to be made. He had a job and a home for Isaac. As long as he had Isaac, he’d have a piece
of Delia.

  When sleep descended on him Delia was there. She was no longer the broken woman he lifted from the muddy roadside and carried into the hospital. She was young again, as she’d been in the early years of their marriage. She laughed that same lighthearted laugh he remembered from the day of the barbeque. In the sweetest moment of the dream she leaned close and pressed her cheek to his. This is good, she whispered, but when he turned to answer she was gone and he felt himself coming awake. For several minutes he remained there in the bed, trying to sleep, trying to reach back and catch Delia one more time, but it was no longer possible.

  During the night the temperature plummeted to a chilly forty-two degrees, so Isaac pulled on one of his wool sweaters from the Saint Vincent DePaul shop. It was bright red with a sprinkling of snowflakes decorating the front.

  “Ain’t it a bit early for that?” Benjamin asked.

  Isaac stepped back from looking at himself in the mirror and shook his head. “I’s getting in the mood for snowman building.”

  Benjamin laughed. “Snowman building, huh? Well, first we’d better go get that free breakfast.”

  Breakfast was served in a small room next to where Benjamin had signed the register. Bunched fairly close together were eight small tables, and at the far end he saw a kitchen counter. The woman he’d spoken with last night stood behind the counter.

  “Whatcha in the mood for?” she asked.

  When Benjamin hesitated she added, “We got eggs, bacon, sausage, grits ’n pancakes.”