Marge, that young man put his arms around his mother and told her, “But I am hurt, we’re all hurt and you’ve been watchin’ it all your life, so I figure you can stand just about anything.” That brought the two of us down to earth and I said to Florence, “Leave him alone, let him live his life ’cause he’s got good sense. Maybe the two of us didn’t do all of our share when we was comin’ up. Now Bubba has to finish up some of our work. It’s not right that these children should have so much left on their shoulders but it’s real encouragin’ to see that they don’t mind handlin’ the situation.”
Well, no, Marge, she didn’t get to the place where she felt all rosy and happy, but she kinda went over to Bubba’s side. I stayed on for dinner and when I left they was listenin’ to the radio and laughin’ and talkin’ like nothin’ had happened.
THE HEALTH CARD
WELL, MARGE, I started an extra job today…. Just wait, girl. Don’t laugh yet. Just wait till I tell you…. The woman seems real nice…. Well, you know what I mean…. She was pretty nice, anyway. Shows me this and shows me that, but she was real cautious about loadin’ on too much work the first morning. And she stopped short when she caught the light in my eye.
Comes the afternoon, I was busy waxin’ woodwork when I notice her hoverin’ over me kind of timid-like. She passed me once and smiled and then she turned and blushed a little. I put down the wax can and gave her an inquirin’ look. The lady takes a deep breath and comes up with, “Do you live in Harlem, Mildred?”
Now you know I expected somethin’ more than that after all the hesitatin’. I had already given her my address so I didn’t quite get the idea behind the question. “Yes, Mrs. Jones,” I answered, “that is where I live.”
Well, she backed away and retired to the living room and I could hear her and the husband just a-buzzin’. A little later on I was in the kitchen washin’ glasses, I looks up and there she was in the doorway, lookin’ kind of strained around the gills. First she stuttered and then she stammered and after beatin’ all around the bush she comes out with, “Do you have a health card, Mildred?”
That let the cat out of the bag. I thought real fast. Honey, my brain was runnin’ on wheels. “Yes, Mrs. Jones,” I says, “I have a health card.” Now Marge, this is a lie. I do not have a health card. ‘I’ll bring it tomorrow,” I add real sweet-like.
She beams like a chromium platter and all you could see above her taffeta house coat is smile. “Mildred,” she said, “I don’t mean any offense, but one must be careful, mustn’t one?”
Well, all she got from me was solid agreement. “Sure, I said, “indeed one must, and I am glad you are so understandin’, ’cause I was just worryin’ and studyin’ on how I was goin’ to ask you for yours, and of course you’ll let me see one from your husband and one for each of the three children.”
By that time she was the same color as the housecoat, which is green, but I continue on: “Since I have to handle laundry and make beds, you know …” She stops me right there and after excusin’ herself she scurries from the room and has another conference with hubby.
Inside fifteen minutes she was back. “Mildred, you don’t have to bring a health card. I am sure it will be all right.”
I looked up real casual kind-of and said, “On second thought, you folks look real clean, too, so …” And then she smiled and I smiled and then she smiled again…. Oh, stop laughin’ so loud, Marge, everybody on this bus is starin’.
“YOUR SOUL … ANOTHER YOU”
MARGE, SOMETIMES YOU CAN BE awful contrary…. Yes, you! … No, I don’t want to start no argument, but when I got something on my mind I just got to say it.
Well, I think we all do pretty good to jump over the daily harassments like rent, light, gas, groceries, sickness and weariment, and the Lord only knows how we’re prayin’ not to have another war! Now wouldn’t you think that’s enough worry for all of us? … Just keep calm now, I’m gettin’ to the point. Sometimes, Marge, don’t you long for a little beauty in your life … a little sweetness? No, I’m not talkin’ about hearin’ a snatch of pretty music, nor am I speakin’ about smelling flowers or dancin’ no waltz, although everybody should have a goodly share of those things too.
Now don’t laugh, Marge, because I’m dead serious…. Oh yes, it is very possible for me to get serious! … We make folks laugh because it’s better than lookin’ long-faced and we “cut the fool” because it takes precious little in the other direction to start the tears fallin’ and that don’t benefit nobody except a handkerchief salesman, but it’s a shame how folks go ’long and take each other for granted just as though they got nothin’ to ’em but their faces! … That’s wrong because we all got souls…. Why, I’m surprised at you, Marge! Don’t you know what a soul is?
Well, I’ll tell you—your soul is an inner something that is another you and hardly anybody knows what it’s really thinkin’ except you. Your soul is that which you expect friends to reach for in order to know you better…. Marge, it is truly amazin’ the things that the soul can do! … It can make you call up your friends when you don’t need a favor and share all your goodness and happiness with them…. It can make you spend time with your family, not begrudgin’ and beholden with duty but with love and admiration…. It can make you talk to a stranger on a bus and leave ’em all flustered and pleased with themselves…. Oh yes, it’ll make you scribble a note to somebody telling ’em you want to know if everything’s goin’ along smooth…. It’ll teach you how to accept givin’ when somebody gives you somethin’…. Oh, you know what I mean, Marge! You won’t holler, “Oh, you shouldn’t have!” or “Why did you?” … A gift—be it a present, a kind word or a job done with care and love—explains itself! … and if receivin’ it embarrasses you it’s because your “thanks box” is warped.
Take you for an example, Marge—when I wash your dishes you always say, “Oh, you needn’t” or “You don’t have to.” … Now I know I needn’t and you know it, but I just feel like givin’ you that…. You see what I mean?
Yes, there have been other times when you’ve done it, like when you asked me to write your church speech and everytime I wanted to go over it with you, you’d get saltier and saltier, and after a while it seemed like I was botherin’ you to do somethin’ for me! … Of course I understand and I know you’re sorry. We all act that way sometimes.
Well, the soul is a funny something—there’s things it won’t let you do either … It won’t let a man ask his wife for a dance in a voice that’s as dead as ashes…. It won’t let papas and mamas turn a deaf ear to a child’s talk about school and games and children’s worries…. It won’t let you work somebody for a salary that you wouldn’t take for the same job…. It won’t let you hate people because they look different from you…. It won’t let you preach a sermon and then uphold Jim Crow.
Oh yes, Marge, I know there are people who do these things, but their soul case is worn thin … and when it comes to folks hatin’ and Jim Crowin’, they got no soul at all … they are dead … only they are not buried yet.
Yes, your friend Mildred is really serious this evenin’ and I feel like indulgin’ my feelin’s.
Goodnight Marge.
SIGNS OF THE TIMES
THERE IS ONE THING about not havin’ a lot of education, that is you can always imagine how you might have done somethin’ great if you had. I often think like that and get to imaginin’ what kind of great somebody I might have been. Of course, I just might have failed at the things, but, on the other hand, I’ll never really know ’cause I haven’t had the chance to try anything.
Today I found out what it is that I would have been real good at…. No, I never pictured myself as a nurse or a teacher although I mightn’t of been too bad at either one of ’em. I was ridin’ along on the subway when it all of a sudden come over me that I would be just grand at writin’ signs. You know, I’m talkin about all those signs that you see lined up in subway trains and buses, in particular the ones that tell about race
relations bein’ better and everything!
Some of those signs are right nice and you can tell that they got the best intentions in the world but you can also tell that no colored people have been writin’ any of them…. Well, I know that I would make just about the grandest signwriter in the business and put things so that they would be clear and make lots of sense!
There I was ridin’ along and lookin’ at people across the aisle from me and wonderin’ what they was thinkin’ about and where they lived. I saw how almost all of them that wasn’t lookin’ in a newspaper was lookin’ up at them signs and readin’ ’em over for just as far as the eye could reach, so I began readin’ them too.
Well, there was one very nice sign that showed colored and white and Spanish and all manner of people standin’ together in a nice friendly way, they all looked pretty, especially since this sign was in color. The writin’ on it said something like this, “In our city, all the people work and play together regardless of race, creed or color.” Now, as good intentioned as that sign was, it struck me as havin’ somethin’ wrong with it!
I got to thinkin’ about where I had heard somethin’ like that before, then I remembered that it was at Mrs. Warren’s house! Yes, I was over there one time to help her when she gave her daughter a party. Her daughter is in the freshman year at college and the house was brimmin’ over with bright-eyed, lively youngsters. Well, the bell rings and in walks this dapper little fellow that turned out to be the life of the party. He was dressed real snappy and as soon as he hits the livin’ room he waves his hand in the air and hollers, “Greetin’s everybody, regardless of race, creed, color or previous condition of servitude!”
Honey! The house came down! Of course, they were all colored, but that wasn’t the point. They were laughin’ like crazy about that ‘regardless’ business! Why on earth does anybody have to disregard what folks are in order to like them? I never disregard people! Why, I can tell the difference between Chinese and Irish without half-tryin’ and work and play with them just as well. In fact I would be foolin’ myself and other folks, too, if I said I disregarded that there was even a mite of difference. Of course, maybe the word disregard could also mean that I might notice the difference but make sure and pay it no mind.
Anyway, I knew right then and there just how to fix up that sign! I would show all those different folks standin’ together just like they were, but I would change the readin’ under it so it would say, “In our city, all the people work and play together.” Now what’s wrong with that? Folks will have got the point without clutterin’ up the thing with all them regardlesses!
Another thing I would not do if I was a signwriter is to tell people that their friends will envy them if they buy this fur coat or that car or somethin’. Oh no, I would say, “Your friends will admire you!” ’cause I think it is more fun to be admired than envied! … That’s right, all them folks who envy you might turn into enemies or at least you won’t be too popular with them!
Yes, I know I would be a first-class, number one signwriter! I could also write things for these people who are always runnin’ in some election. Very often I see posters in this neighborhood tellin’ us about some man who is “tolerant.” Soon as I see that I make up my mind not to vote for him…. No, I don’t want anybody toleratin’ me because the word tolerate is tied up with so many unpleasant things, You know how you hear people say, “I’m sick of toleratin’ your foolishness!”
I also remember how my grandma used to say, “I’m not gonna tolerate your sassiness much longer!” And I would know that she meant that she had been puttin’ up with me although she’d been mad as the devil with me and the whole thing had been a tremendous burden as well as a test of her temper-control.
Well, if I was signwritin’ for that man I would have left his picture there just like it was, but I’d change the writin’ and have it read, “The man who works for all the people!” I bet he’d be surprised how much better that went over than the “tolerance” stuff.
… Sure, I’d be good at it! And I bet they pay people a nice tidy sum for writin’ those things!
AREN’T YOU HAPPY?
GOOD MORNING MARGE. … I come to borrow a cup of sugar and a half stick ’a butter until tomorrow…. I got a recipe for a “no-egg” cake…. Ain’t that somethin’? What will they think of next? My cousin Ellie give me the recipe for it, I told her if she come across a recipe for some “no-meat” meat balls to be sure and give me that … now that’s somethin’ I could really use.
Oh no, Marge, Ellie ain’t workin’ now, She can’t work with that son of hers. Bobby ain’t but 12 but already he’s broke one rib and a arm and his forehead is always lumped up…. Yeah, her husband is doin’ a little better on the job … got a little raise … so she quit her place … Bobby was climbin’ up lamp posts and fallin’ off of back alley fences. Child, when she heard ’bout him playin’ leap frog on the roof ledge she whipped him and then figured she’d best stay home and watch him before he ruined himself altogether.
The woman she worked for wasn’t bad as folks go so Ellie decided to give her two weeks notice. Well, honey, I can’t tell it like Ellie can … you oughta hear her! Well anyway she told this lady ’bout Bobby and explained how she had to leave and … bless Bess! the woman fell out…. You heard me, she fell out! That’s just what I said! There she was cryin’ and moanin’ and just a-carryin’ on…. Now Ellie was speechless ’cause she had no idea the woman was that crazy ’bout her…. When the woman gets her breath back she starts groanin’: “Oh Ellie we were so fond of you and I never thought you’d leave us…. Oh I never thought you’d leave us.”
“Never?” Ellie asked her. “Really never?” and that woman was dead serious.
“Ellie,” she says, “I thought of us as just one big family…. What’s wrong? Why do you want to leave?”
Well, Ellie gets her a glass of water and some smellin’ salts and sat down and explained all over again … slowly. She tells her ’bout Bobby and ’bout her husband real clear. When she was through the woman asked her, “What have we done to you? Has anyone hurt your feelings? Aren’t you happy?”
Well the upshot of it was that there was no way that Ellie could explain anything so’s she’d understand it ’cause the way Ellie told it to me, this woman had read “Gone with the Wind” four times and … and … well, it’s just given her ideas … that’s all…. Look out Marge! The coffee is boilin’ over…. Girl, stop actin’ the fool now!
NASTY COMPLIMENTS
MARGE, I CAN SEE why you say you don’t like this butcher shop on the corner even if they do have the best quality of meat…. I know you have had words with the man that owns the place, but I guess I will really avoid goin’ in there after today! … Sure, he is sickenin’! … I don’t pay him too much mind although I have had to jack him up about callin’ me “girlie” and “honeychile,” but every once in a while I will find myself wantin’ a nice piece of steak and will go in there ’cause it is the closest shop to my house.
When I went in there tonight, he tries to pick a conversation with me by sayin’, “There’s some fine colored people around here, and I can say this: I’d rather know a Negro any day than to know a Jew.” All the time he’s talkin’ he’s also grinnin’ at me like a chessy-cat! I suppose he thought he was payin’ me a compliment!
So, I says, “You mean that if you had to keep some unpleasant company, you would rather it would be mine.” He says, “Oh, no, I mean that colored people are better to deal with than Jews. A Jew will always try to take advantage of you and a Jew will …”
I cut him off then. “I’m not interested,” I says, “because folks that talk about Jews that way will be very quick to call me ‘nigger’!” “Oh, no,” he says, “I’d never say anything like that!”
Now, Marge, all this time he is busy cuttin’ my round steak and gettin’ ready to grind it in the machine. I answered him real snappy, “You’re a liar and the truth ain’t in you! I have heard you say ‘spick’ after some
Spanish person left the store. I also heard you say ‘wop’ one day, and I know that if you like nasty words like that you just couldn’t resist sayin’ ‘nigger’.”
Well, he looks kind of flustered-like and says, “I’m sorry, sister, all I meant was that I like you people.” “I know what you meant,” I says, “and I don’t wanna hear no talk out of you ’bout how you think I’m better than some folks who you consider to be nothin’ ’cause if the truth is to be known, I can’t imagine anybody bein’ interested in makin’ your acquaintance!” The next thing I did was shake my finger at him and read him some more, “You oughta be tickled pink that anybody buys your old, crummy dogmeat!”
… Now, Marge, I know the meat is good, but I just called it “dogmeat” in order to be mean! “Furthermore,” I says, “I’m not gonna buy that round steak, and I’m gonna tell all the people I see not to come in here and buy anything you got. I’ll bet if everyone was to stay away from this place for a while you’d be tickled to death whenever you finally did get a customer, any customer!”
I’m tellin’ you, those kinda people make me sick! … Sure, I remember the time that woman told you about Puerto Ricans. Ain’t that some nerve! She’s gonna ask you what you think of so many of ’em movin’ in her neighborhood! I’m glad you told her that you was plannin’ on movin’ over there yourself. I guess that held her for a while! Folks who rent apartments got a real crust to come talkin’ about their neighborhood!
Marge, if there is one thing I can’t stand it’s gettin’ one of them back-handed compliments! I remember a man tellin’ me once that he liked me ’cause I was “different.” I said, “Different from what?” Then he went into a big old wringin’ and twistin’ ’bout how some colored people was terrible, but I was very nice. I told him, “You can get off of that ’cause I’m just exactly like most of the colored people I know!”
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