Marge! She was almost speechless but she apologized and said she’d talk to her husband about the raise…. I knew things were progressing because this evening Carol came in the kitchen and she did not say, “I want some bread and jam!” but she did say, “Please, Mildred, will you fix me a slice of bread and jam.”
I’m going upstairs, Marge. Just look … you done messed up that buttonhole!
LISTEN FOR THE MUSIC
MARGE, I LOVE CHILDREN, they’re wonderful and I find their company real excitin’. You know how they are always askin’ a million and one questions which on first thought can sometimes seem silly but if you look into them questions a little while they make real sense.
Where I worked today, there was a little boy about five years old and he was such a bright-eyed inquirin’ little fellow that it was a pure joy to be around him and it was all I could do to keep doin’ my work and not stop and play with him all afternoon.
One time he asked his mother a question when she was listenin’ to the radio music. “Mama,” he says, “where did music come from?” And she answered him in a kinda off-hand way. “Oh, men invented different kinds of musical instruments and kept improvin’ them until we got pianos and harps and all kinds of horns and drums.” He shook his head and said, “I don’t mean that, I mean where did the music come from before it came out of horns and pianos.”
She looked at him kind of dumb-struck and then said, “I guess it came out of men’s hearts and minds because it was somethin’ they were thinkin’.” Well, Frankie looked at her a minute and then shook his head again. “I mean, where did it come from before it was in men’s hearts and minds?”
Marge, he really had her then because she just shrugged her shoulders and said, “Frankie, you can ask the craziest questions!” But he wasn’t studyin’ about lettin’ her off so easy. “Mama, I want to know!” Well, she laughed a little then and said, “Ask Mildred!” And so he did.
Now, you know, Marge, I don’t believe in lettin’ the little ones down and whether I know somethin’ or not I will always try to give them at least my own thoughts on the matter so I explained to him: “Frankie, I don’t rightly know that I can give you the last-word facts about it, but I can tell you what I think if you’d like to hear that.” He sat down on the hassock-cushion and his big eyes was all eager. “Yes,” he says, “tell me that.”
“Well,” I says, “there has always been music as long as there has been a world, been out there floatin’ around long before it went into man’s heart and mind, no two ways about it. At first man was so busy tryin’ to learn how to build a fire and find food to eat that he didn’t have time to hear the music, but it was there just the same.”
Marge, have you ever noticed how little children can hang on each and every word you say just like the greatest thing they’ve ever heard? Well, that’s how Frankie was lookin’ at me. I always pause a bit in the story in order to make it more excitin’ and make them help me along with it. “Where was it?” he asked, “where was it when they didn’t know about it?”
“Well,” I says, “it was all around them and it just kept on goin’ about its music-business until they began to notice it. One night after supper, man and his wife and child were sittin’ in front of the fire feelin’ nice and comfortable when they noticed a sound. They listened a bit and then they heard it again!”
“What was it!” Frankie hollered. “It was the fire cracklin’ and poppin’,” I said, “and after they listened a while they heard somethin’ way up over their heads goin’ boom-boom-boomity-boom! And what do you think it was?”
Marge, what do you think he said it was? “A bomb!” “No,” says I, “it was thunder and after a while the lightnin’ went clackity-clack! And then the rain began to fall … plup, plup, plup and when it hit man’s fire, the hot wood made a sound like cu-zizzzzz before it went out and sometimes musicians make that sound on the brass cymbals when they hit them together real fast.”
I had me a real audience by this time because Frankie’s mother turned down the radio so’s she could listen, too.
“Since there was no television in those days, man and his family had a lot of fun listenin’ to the different sounds they would hear like the buzzin’ of bees, the wind in the trees, the cry of animals in the night goin’ ah-wooooooo, ah-wooooooo. In the daytime they heard the waves slappin’ up against the beach and sayin’ cu-swush, cu-swush, and they heard the birds trillin’ in the trees and they also found that when they listened to the little babies they’d hear musical, gurglin’ sounds like ah-ga-gerrr-taaaaah.”
“That’s what baby sister says,” shouted Frankie. “Yes,” I said, “and one day when man was hittin’ one stone against the other, it pleased him to hear the rocks makin’ a ringin noise like tooooonnnnng. And music began to enter the heart of man. He listened to everything, and he found that there was music all around him. It was in his own breathin’ which was all timed out nice and even; it was in his heart-beat which went ku-dum, ku-dum all the time; it came out of the animals’ hoofs as they ran, across the stones tic-toc, tic-toc, tic-toc; it was in the brook-water, goin’ curga-la-la, rerrrr-curga-la-la; it was everywhere; It was in man’s throat.”
Frankie let out a nice high note, and I said, “That’s right, just like that! One day man stood down in a valley and hollered up to the tops of the mountain, la-la-deeeeee! and the sound came rocketin’ back, laaaa-laaaa-deeeeeeee! and man was so happy he began to sing!”
Frankie then gave us a line or two of “Yankee Doodle.” “But,” I said, “man got weary of waitin’ around for the sounds to happen because he wanted to hear them whenever he felt like it, and he also wanted to hear them in a different order. Sometimes it got on his nerves to hear the raindrops first and then the birds and then something else ’cause he had a notion that if he could arrange them in a different order, they would sound better, so he went to work to make all those sounds himself. At first he whistled them out, but he couldn’t get close enough to the real sounds so he began to hit sticks against one another and blow through animal horns and hit metal pieces together and things like that. And before you knew it he had some musical instruments to play on.”
“Hot dog!” Frankie says, “like drums and things!” I waited until the little fellow was all charged up with curiosity again and then I went on, “But it just so happened that every man couldn’t play the music although they all liked to hear it, so some played for others and they practiced together and got to be bands. Some of the band people played some real pretty things but other bands couldn’t because the man that made up the pretty piece couldn’t come and see them to tell them how to play it. So man racked his brain until he found a way to put dots down on paper so that other bands could look at it and know how the pieces should be played. My goodness, but they had a good time then and kept real busy writin’ down pieces and sendin’ them back and forth to each other and playin’ some of everything there was to play, because as you know, these bands were all over the world and naturally they was playin’ all kinds of different ways!”
“How could they read it if everybody spoke different?” asked Frankie. “Well,” I says, “they did somethin’ with music that they never did with no other language, they made only one set of writin’ so that every blessed musician can understand the other if he takes a little time to do it.”
“Well,” says Frankie, “now we only hear music when the band plays it.” “No, no,” I says, “it’s still everywhere, and if you will listen close you can hear it right in this room.” We got real quiet, and after a bit he says, “I hear the radiator goin’ ta-sisssss, and I hear the clock goin’ pip-pip-pip-pip.” “That’s right,” I says, “and now if you will place both of your hands tight over your ears and lift ’em up and put ’em back real fast, you will hear the music of life real clear.”
He did as I told him and then his face lit up real bright. “I hear it, I hear it!” “Of course you do,” I said, “and whenever you hear the music band you must learn t
o listen real close and that way you will find out what’s in the music and sometimes it won’t be birds or thunder or water, but it might be just a feelin’ you had about somethin’ once, maybe a scary feelin’ or a happy feelin’. Listen long and careful and you’ll be sure to hear it.”
Well, that child was so delighted and pleased, “Tell me another story about somethin’!” he says, and his mother adds, “Yes, do tell us another story.”
Of course, I did, Marge, ’cause not only was I enjoyin’ myself but it was a good way to get out of an afternoon’s ironin’.
ON SAYING NO
HEY MARGE, come on in and live a while. The coffee pot is perkin’ and I have the world’s best sweet-potato pie coolin’ in the window…. Well, how was your trip last weekend? … That’s nice, I wish I could say that I had a good time too…. Yes, the company came…. Girl, you should have been here! … You know I invited Susie and her husband and a few other people? … Sure, they all showed up and some more in the bargain. Susie brought a couple along that was visitin’ with her because she thought I’d just love to meet them.
… You know me, the first mistake I made was to light up like a Christmas tree and say, “Make yourself at home!” Me and my big mouth! Those friends that she thought I’d love to meet proceeded to do just that! You should have seen those two!
They hadn’t been here ten minutes before they let loose with a string of off-color jokes. We listened in a strained sort of polite way, and I forced out a couple of weak ha-ha’s, but I can tell you that the goin’ was rough…. I did that. Yes, I kept changin’ the subject or tryin’ to change it…. No mam, they did not take the hint, and I was so mad you could have boiled a pot of water on my head…. Yes, the subject finally got changed but only when it suited them to do so, and in a way I kinda wished they’d stuck to the jokes. Next thing on the program they started talkin’ about people…. Of course, everybody talks about people sometime, but I mean they got to rippin’ people’s personal business apart and diggin’ out all manner of ugly gossip and scandal and such. They were experts on everybody’s private affairs and from the drift of the conversation I could tell that few people met with their approval. Just as I thought I couldn’t take any more of it we started in on the refreshments…. No, dear, food did not stop their mouths. Them free-loaders sat there eatin’ my frankfurters and potato salad and in between bites they informed us about the wonderful lobster supper they’d had at this doctor’s home and the turkey and ham feast they’d had at that doctor’s home, and how good a hostess this woman was, and what a beautiful home that woman had…. If I’m lyin’ I’m flyin’! … All the while they were talkin’ they kept eyein’ my drapes and coffee table and everything, and somehow or another the room seemed sort of shabby all of a sudden. I mean I’d never noticed that the drapes were kinda flimsy and faded, the lampshade is a little bent on one side, my big ashtray has a nick in it … you know, things like that. After they finished off two or three helpings of my salad and franks, they wiped their hands on my crummy paper napkins and started to talk about people havin’ things…. You heard me! … Seems like everyone they know has a fine car, buy their clothes at the most expensive shops, know all of the most important people, have the best jobs in the world, have traveled, got this, got that, got the other…. And got dog! I was tired of the whole thing, especially since by this time I felt like some old raggedy crumb with no claim to nothin’ no how! … Yes, I had drinks but it seems that all they drank was scotch and milk. Anyway I admired the way they forced down all of what I did have and then sent me scurryin’ to bring back some more of that potato salad…. I was real relieved when we finally got to the goodby time. When I took them to the door they asked me to visit their home out in Long Island and stood there for fifteen more minutes describin’ the bar in their playroom and how they knew I’d just love it! … After everyone had cleared out I felt like I’d just escaped from jail.
The next night my telephone started ringing and I don’t have to tell you who it was…. That’s right, Mrs. Lobster-Ham-Playroom herself, wanting to know could I come out on Tuesday evening. I explained how I had to work and thanked her nicely…. The phone starts ringing on Wednesday night, and I have to tell Mrs. Lobster-Ham-Playroom that I have club meetin’ on Friday night…. The phone rings on Thursday and by this time, I’m tellin’ one lie after another…. Oh, I made up some tale about my sister feelin’ so sick that I’d have to help her out on Saturday…. Now get this, Marge! The phone rings again about a half hour later and this time Mrs. Lobster-Ham-Playroom wants to know about me comin’ for Sunday dinner. I felt like something was closin’ in on me and my back was flat to the wall. I closed my eyes and said, “No, thank you.” Mrs. Lobster-Ham-Playroom was quiet for a second and then she says, “Why?” … Marge, we go through an awful lot of suffering to avoid tellin’ the truth and it suddenly struck me that these people were going to keep me lyin’ for a long time to come, and I said real firm-like, “Because I don’t care to come and would rather be doing something else.” All she said was “Well!” and then hung up on me, and again I felt free and relieved.
Go on, Marge, pour yourself some coffee…. The way I figure it, she needed somebody to dog around and show off in front of and I just wasn’t goin’ to be it. Right here and now
I’m tellin’ you that from here on in, I’m gonna have the guts to say that blunt “no” instead of torturin’ myself with a weak “yes” or a lie! Sure, life is too short and time is precious! And I ain’t gonna squirm out of nothin’ no more ’cause what kicks some people just bugs me and vice is versa!
RIDIN’ THE BUS
I SURE AM GLAD we got a seat near the window, I’m that tired…. What do you mean by you thought I’d never stop walkin’? I like to sit in the back of the bus…. I certainly do, for many good reasons…. Well, the back is always less crowded, the air is better, it is also nearer to the exit door…. Why do I sound strange to you? … Marge, there is no way that you can compare ridin’ in the back because you want to with ridin’ there because you have to! … No indeed, I’ll argue you down on that! … I’ve ridden both ways a whole lot so I can tell you the difference.
Well, for one thing when I walked to the back of this bus nobody was freezin’ me up with stares. Have you forgotten what it feels like? All of them eyes that always have to follow you to your seat lookin’ at you real mockin’ like. Well, nobody pays us any mind and we didn’t have to die a little on the inside because there was nothin’ to this except findin’ a seat. The next difference was the fact that when we took this seat it simply showed which one we had picked out and not which one was picked for us. Why don’t you look around you and see who else is sittin’ back here? … That’s right, there’s plenty of white folks too. Now, if they are from the South, it’s probably the first time in their lives that they have had the opportunity to sit where they want!
… Why sure, they can’t sit in the back down home and it seems that a lot of ’em think that’s the best place to be…. No, I don’t think of it in that way. Good, better or best, it’s only the individual that can say which they like. Another thing, I get annoyed ridin’ Jim Crow because you get a little more than just separate seatin’. You get rudeness, meanness and less for your money in every other way. There’s been many a time when I was down home when the driver wouldn’t stop when I pulled the cord, that is if I was the only one who wanted to get off, or if it was any other colored for that matter. I’d be so mad when he wouldn’t let me off ’til we was four or five blocks past my stop. There’s been many a time I’ve been left standin’ with my hand held up to stop the bus and the driver would go whizzin’ right on past. There’s been other times when them drivers would go out of the way to splash a mud puddle on you…. Well, you know they was bein’ upheld in everything they did! But the most miserable thing of all was when the back of the bus was full and the front almost empty. Yes, you’d just stand there and get madder and madder, especially when you’d be standin’ by a colored mothe
r holdin’ her baby in her arms and look toward the front and see four or five white men and women ridin’ along with about twenty seats between. I can tell you that although we knew it was the law, it didn’t make anybody feel good to notice how the folks sittin’ in the front would just go on readin’ their newspapers and never even look up or feel the least bit self-conscious about us…. Oh yes, there are some places down South where the passengers are supposed to fill up from the front and the back as they come in, but I never liked that too much because if there were more colored we’d have to move back when the whites came on, and of course that was worse than bein’ in the back in the first place.
… You are right, Marge, some people still think we want to sit with white people when they hear us talkin’ about that Jim Crow ridin’ and what they seem to forget is that there was never nothin’ equal about those separate seats even though they were all on the same bus.
Watch where this white man sits when he gets back here. Well now, did you see that? He sat next to a colored man…. No, I don’t think he especially wanted to or didn’t want to. See how he’s busy readin’ his magazine? It is good to note also that the colored man never noticed him sitting beside him and went right on lookin’ for his street. That’s the way things should be—nice and easy like with no fuss or bother one way or the other. Sure, and when I feel like bein’ exclusive, I take a cab!
BUYIN’ PRESENTS
GIRL, I WENT all the way downtown and spent the whole afternoon buttin’ around from one store to the other tryin’ to find out where best to spend five dollars on Angie and her husband. I tell you, it was downright discouragin’…. Sure, there was lots of things, but Angie’s got three children and a husband, and I was tryin’ to get something that would sort of cover everybody at one blow…. No, I wouldn’t get no candy because Angie’s been tryin’ to lose weight and that would be a mean trick to play on her since she dearly loves candy…. No, I didn’t want to buy something just for the children because it seems a shame that people with children never get anything for themselves. After a while I decided to let loose of ten dollars, but even then nothin’ was happenin’ except my feet began to ache.
Like One of the Family Page 4