“Ailey, women always risk their lives in labor. That’s one reason it’s so important to cherish mothers always. Isn’t that right?”
“Yes, sir.”
“After his first wife died, Big Thom met my mother, Lil’ May, and fell in love with her. Because she was Negro, she couldn’t be his legal wife, but she had my sister and me. That was a big scandal in this town, but my father didn’t care. I was eleven when my mother passed away. The Spanish influenza epidemic, don’t you know? I’ve never loved another person the way I loved her, not even Olivia. I don’t think my heart ever recovered from my mother’s passing.”
He was sharing a secret, like a friend. I needed to respond, to let him know I understood the moment. I tried one of the phrases Mama often used talking on the phone with our relatives.
“Shonuff?” I walked closer to him, brushing against the seersucker jacket.
He cleared his throat a few times. “Yes, indeed, sugarfoot.”
“I’m so sorry for your loss.”
“I appreciate your saying that. Your mother is named for mine. Did you know that?”
“Yes, but she changed it last year. She gets cranky now when Daddy calls her Maybelle Lee. He does it to tease her.”
“Sugarfoot, let me ask you, what kind of name is ‘Belle Marie’? Doesn’t that sound pretentious to you?”
“Well . . .”
“Look at you. So loyal. How about we go back to my house, and I’ll try to teach you how to beat me in chess?”
He put his arm around my shoulders, and I put my arm around his waist. We slowed down our stride, as country folks like to do. At the house, he pointed out the pictures on his credenza, naming everyone. Many of their subjects had passed on, now only living within the frames. He pointed out the largest image of a man, a girl, and a very little boy. The man and boy were white.
“This was taken at the 1895 Atlanta cotton exposition.” Uncle Root tapped each figure in the picture. “That’s my father. That’s my mother. And that’s my big brother.”
Big Thom was a portly man dressed in a light-colored three-piece and a straw hat. He towered over Lil’ May, a petite, dark girl in a striped dress; her hair was braided in a coronet, and she stood very erect and serious. Tommy Jr. stood between them, holding the hands of both, but his head leaned into Lil’ May’s side. The boy smiled, revealing missing front teeth. A happy blond child in his sailor suit.
“My sister and I hadn’t yet been born. Mama was thirteen here, so my father must have been, oh, thirty-five or thirty-six? Something like that, and way too old for my mother. After she died, Big Thom used to tell me, he’d been a complete gentleman. He didn’t start courting Mama until she turned eighteen, but I’ve always wondered if he said that to seem a better man than what he truly was. He built the house for her after Pearl was born. Cordelia let us live in the house after Tommy Jr. died, and that’s where your granny lives now. I was supposed to move in and take it over after Pearl passed away, but I already had my own home. And even if I’d been homeless, I wouldn’t have lived in that house for anything in the world. My mother was ostracized by our entire Negro community for living there. They shamed her for being my father’s mistress. And then they shamed me because I carried his skin color. And if I moved into that house, it would be like I was all right with that. And I wasn’t all right! So goddamn that stupid-ass house!” He caught his breath. “Goodness. Excuse my language, sugarfoot.”
“You’re fine, Uncle Root. But you only have one more curse left for the week!”
I nudged him, and he laughed.
* * *
One day, when we returned from visiting Miss Cordelia, David was waiting for us on the porch. Uncle Root and he greeted like grown men, giving each other the latest soul shake. In the house, the old man asked, did David want to play a game of chess?
“I can’t play too well.”
“Neither can Ailey, but I’m doing my best to teach her.”
I stuck my tongue out at the old man, and then he went to get slices of pound cake and coffee. He told us he’d put plenty cream in the latter. He didn’t want to stunt our growth. We sat there an hour, chatting, and he told his Du Bois story, which David never had heard. Then Uncle Root asked us, did we want to go on a trip? But all he did was drive out to the family farm. We turned off and drove on the road out to the creek, and he stopped at a boarded building, where a chubby gray cat appeared through the weeds. When we climbed out of the car, David gave me his hand to hold.
“That animal’s nearly old as I am,” the old man said. “I guess eating rodents keeps her spry.”
“You mean like rats?” I asked.
“Don’t be afraid, sugarfoot. Brother David will protect you.”
I looked at my boyfriend, and he gave me a quick wink. We followed the old man through overgrown grass. He stopped and told us this was it. This was the place he wanted to show us. David made an admiring, polite sound, but I wasn’t having it.
“You drove us out here to show us a patch of grass?”
“Ailey, there’s a tree, too. A very special tree. This spot is where I was almost lynched!”
“Like, killed?”
“Would I lie to you, sugarfoot? It was 1934, and my wife and I decided to move back south. Olivia and I both had finished our doctorates at Mecca University. I hadn’t been home for a while, and she decided we should drive on down. I wasn’t too keen, but she was the boss of me, so I gave in.
“It took us a week. We made sure to travel during the daylight because a lot of roads went through the woods. We had some gallons of gas in a can, but only sandwiches to eat. Some jugs of water, too. Olivia was a brilliant scholar, but she wasn’t much of a cook. Neither was I. When we arrived here on the farm, she was napping, and I didn’t want to stop at the house just yet. We had all sorts of presents for my sister’s children, but I wanted to bring a sack of candy.
“It was a Saturday here at the store. Lots of folks, but during those times, Negroes couldn’t be waited on until all the white customers were served. That was one of the many things I didn’t miss about this place. Why I didn’t want to come back.
“My white half brother was the owner of the store, and when I raised my hand in greeting, Tommy Jr. waved back. I didn’t want to stand in line with the other Negroes. So I decided to pass, and I got in line with the whites. When I got to the front, Tommy Jr. winked, filled my sack with candy, and wouldn’t take my money. But when I left the store, Jinx Franklin recognized me.
“Now, the Franklins had always spread around that they used to own Wood Place, before the Pinchards had swindled it from them. I don’t know whether that was true or not, but I do know, they didn’t like how Big Thom had put certain Negroes over them, and now Tommy Jr. was doing the same. The Franklins were angry that my sister, Pearl, and her family lived in what most white people in this town thought was a big, fancy house, when the Franklins were living in run-down cabins and sharecropping on Pinchard land.
“But I was a young knucklehead! I didn’t care about those Franklins. And I didn’t think anything could touch me. So when Jinx called my name and put a ‘nigger’ behind it, I was ready to fight! I pulled out my switchblade and turned around. When I came at him, he tripped and fell backward, and that quick, I was on top of him!”
“Aw, dang! You let him have it!” David raised his free hand and the old man hit it. They laughed with deep, male sounds.
“I sure did! I straddled him good! I had my switchblade in one hand and was punching him in the face with the other. But those Franklins never did fight fair, and in a minute, two of them pulled me off and yanked the knife out of my hand. Another tossed a rope up over a branch of that there pecan tree. I was biting and kicking, and then Olivia woke up, and she started screaming, and all the Negroes who’d been in the store scattered. It was chaos!”
Uncle Root spread his arms wide. Seconds passed.
“What happened?” David asked. “Don’t stop there!”
The old
man sighed. “Well. As I was saying my final prayers and preparing to meet my beloved mother in the afterlife, Tommy Jr. walked down those steps.” He gestured to the rotting porch of the store.
“He was a tall man, but unlike our father, he was rail thin. He called out to those Franklins, ‘What-all’s going on here?’
“Jinx wiped the blood off his mouth, and said, ‘This nigger jumped me.’
“And Tommy Jr. said, ‘Looks like he did more than jumped you. Looks like he whipped your tail.’
“Jinx and the rest started grumbling about uppity, half-white niggers, and Tommy Jr. said, ‘If you let that nigger get the best of you, that’s your business, but if you kill him, then you in my business, because that there nigger is my brother, and everybody here knows it. Y’all Franklins better let him go, or you can pack all your belongings on that wagon, and your women and children, too, and get off my land by sundown, which is about three hours from now.’ Then he walked back up those steps. I’m telling you that you could not hear those Franklins make a sound as they climbed back in their wagon.
“I went over and calmed Olivia, and we drove up to the house to see my family. When Tommy Jr. showed on Sunday to sit with Pearl on her porch like he always did, I told him I hadn’t appreciated his calling me a nigger, but he said I would have appreciated swinging from that pecan tree even less, and he wasn’t about to apologize. That’s how my brother was. A savior one minute, and a white racist the next. I have to admit, he protected me that day from those Franklins. But they did not forget what my brother did. That family has a long memory.”
He put a hand on David’s shoulder.
“And my young brother, that’s why you need to be very careful up at that liquor store, when you’re getting Lonny to buy your wine.”
My boyfriend looked down at his feet, and I squeezed his hand.
“I’m not judging you,” the old man said. “I was young once. But I told you this story for a reason, because Jinx Franklin is Sheriff Franklin’s daddy. That’s the kind of brutal stock that man comes from. And I don’t care how many years have passed; that man is just like his father. There are all kinds of stories out there about how that sheriff treats Negro men when he arrests them. Do you understand what I’m saying? Look at me, now. I’m not angry at you, my brother.”
David raised his head. “Yes, sir, Dr. Hargrace. I understand.”
“Good. Because this is a tiny town. Everybody knows everybody here. And that means that the sheriff knows who you are, and equally important, he knows who Ailey is. He knows Ailey is part of my family. That her granny lives in that house Big Thom built for my mother. Even now, Sheriff Franklin is one of the few in his family who made it out of poverty. You can’t tell me that doesn’t scrape him wrong. So I don’t want either of you in danger. The both of you have to be careful. You hear?”
We nodded, and Uncle Root told us, all right, he was done lecturing.
“But you two young folks come with me. I want to show you one more thing.”
David and I walked with him over to the pecan tree.
“You see here? See these cuts? These showed up a few days after the commotion at the store. Somebody tried to chop this tree down. We never found out who did it, and it never bore fruit again.”
We stood there awhile longer, with Uncle Root patting the pecan tree and sighing. Then he told us we should drive on up to the house to visit my granny. Her feelings would be very hurt if David didn’t stop by and speak.
An Altered Story
“Let me have some more wine,” I said.
“Uh-uh,” David said. “It’s your first time. Sip that slow. That Mad Dog is sneaky.”
“Aw, give the girl some more,” Boukie said. “She can handle it.”
He poured more wine in my mason jar. Mr. Lonny hadn’t bought the liquor; one of Boukie’s older brothers had purchased it. That night, he was at the creek with David and me, and ready to celebrate. Boukie had passed summer school and could play basketball when the season came around. He wouldn’t be left back again and twenty years old by the time he finished high school. I drank my wine and tried not to resent the intrusion as I stared at David, thinking of his kisses, his unashamed affection.
When David lit the joint, he held it away from me, but when Boukie’s turn came, he filled his jaws with smoke. He pressed his lips against mine. I opened and took in the smoke.
David frowned. “Y’all need to stop tripping.”
My head clouded, and I went to the Eldorado, climbing into the back seat. The boys got in the car, too, though in the front.
“Stay up in front here with me,” David said.
“You scared?” Boukie asked. “You want me to sing you a lullaby, too?” He gave a long laugh; he was high.
“Just don’t go back there, man.”
“You want to go first? That’s cool. Save some for me, though.”
“I ain’t playing with you, Boukie. You try to go back there, I’ma have to make some trouble.”
There was a long silence, and I was glad. I wanted to sleep.
“So it’s like that, Baybay? You done had yours, but now, I can’t have mines?”
“Man, I ain’t had nothing.”
“Nigger, you ain’t slick. I know what y’all been doing.”
“I ain’t lying, Boukie. That girl’s a virgin.”
“She don’t act like it. She act like she want to give away some pussy. And I’m ready to take it.”
“She high! She don’t know what she want! And I ain’t gone do her like that. That’s my lady, man. I love her.”
“You know what, Baybay? You just rude. That’s what’s wrong with you. You ain’t got no manners. Now, one thing you can say about me: Boukie Crawford is a polite motherfucker.”
He slammed the car door when he left. I listened for him to come back, but he didn’t, so I slept until David shook my shoulder. It was almost curfew.
I pulled David to me, unzipping his pants, touching him. I urged him, go get the blanket, go get it right now, and he told me we had to go, but he left and returned with the blanket. Shortly, we were out of our clothing and underwear, but he maneuvered beside me. It was safer that way, he told me. He didn’t have a rubber.
I moved against his thigh in slow, wet circles. Wrapped my fingers around him, squeezing.
“Come on, David. Let’s do it. Let’s do it right now.”
“Oh, shit. Naw, girl. We gotta stop.”
“Don’t you want me?”
“You know I do. All the time. I can’t stop thinking ’bout it.”
“Then how come?”
“You promise you won’t get mad?”
I stopped moving. “You have somebody else, don’t you?”
“Uh-uh, I don’t have nobody but you. I love you, girl. I love you so much. But I promised my granddaddy I wouldn’t.”
“How would Mr. J.W. know?”
“My granddaddy, he knows ’cause . . . I kind of, like . . . got a reputation. I been with a lot of girls. You mad, Ailey?”
I thought my first time would be his, too, but I could be understanding.
“No, that’s okay. But, like, who was it?”
“None of your business. Stop being so nosy.”
I took my hand away.
“Why are you acting like this?” Then I remembered that day when I’d asked Boukie about Rhonda. I thought further back, to that time the three of them had gone to the outhouse at Red Mound. “Oh my God! Rhonda? You and her?”
“Listen, listen—”
“You and Boukie both screwed her? So that’s why he thought—”
“Ailey, not at the same time! I promise, sweetheart! I swear to God . . .” He began explaining rapidly. He’d been with Rhonda the previous summer, but she wasn’t his girlfriend. Just somebody he was messing around with, and one night on the phone, she said she’d slept with Boukie, so she didn’t want David anymore. And that had been fine with him, because he didn’t want her, either.
But I scre
amed at him. I told him he could have that stank girl, if he wanted her. When I told him I had somebody back home in the City, and I bet he wouldn’t turn me down when I wanted to fuck, David started weeping. He hugged his naked arms and talked through sobs. Please. He loved me. He was so sorry, please, but I kept putting on my clothes. I reminded him it was after curfew.
When he drove me back to the house, I told him, don’t ever call me again. Don’t come by my granny’s house, either.
* * *
Uncle Root had taken over the center of the chessboard. One of my castles, both my knights, and half my pawns were gone.
“Go ahead and mate me,” I said. “I need to get back.”
“You have plans with David James?”
I made an ugly face. “No, I’m done with him. I told Miss Rose I would help her fill the preserve jars.”
He leaned down, squinting at the board. Sighed, then captured my other rook.
“What happened, Ailey? I thought you two were thick as thieves. Was he not a gentleman? Am I going to have to beat him to within an inch of his life?”
“No, he was fine, I guess.”
“And what about that other one? That Crawford fellow. There haven’t been any fisticuffs between him and David James over you? Because it’s clear you’ve evolved into quite the femme fatale.”
He made a silly face.
“Uncle Root, don’t make fun of me! I really loved David. I thought he was a nice guy, but he broke my heart.”
“I’m so sorry. What did he do?”
This old man was my friend. My only friend now, but he was an adult. There was no way I could tell him what had happened out at the creek. That I’d been naked when David and I had our falling-out. There was no way I’d tell him about what happened with Gandee, either. That all this time, I’d broken my promise to everybody. I wasn’t really a good girl. I never had been. I’d just pretended to make everybody else happy, and look where that had gotten me. I had a broken heart and I was still ashamed.
I moved a lonely pawn forward. “I don’t want to talk about it, Uncle Root.”
“All right, I won’t pry. Would you like to hear about the time I met the great W. E. B. Du Bois?”
The Love Songs of W.E.B. Du Bois Page 18