Mrs. L … was by no means what you’d call a wealthy woman, but I always enjoyed her Christmas gifts better than any others that I got from the people I worked for. I was with her two Christmases, and she never gave me the kind of things that I got from other folks like new uniforms, tough lookin’, old, black pocketbooks or heavy ugly-colored stockings.
Well, the first Christmas she gave me a lovely, beaded evenin’ bag with a five dollar bill in it. The second Christmas she gave me a bottle of her favorite toilet water and a ten dollar bill. Several times I had told her how pleasant that toilet water was and so I guess she thought I’d like to have some, too. Honey, I’m tellin’ you, there’s some folks that don’t want you to have anything that’s like somethin’ they got.
I enjoyed talkin’ with her, too, because she never nosed in my business or tried to poke fun at me on the sly. You know how some people do things like that! They will ask you, “How’s your boyfriend?” and although there’s nothin’ wrong with the question they will be smilin’ and sort of half-laughin’ like it’s funny as all get-out that you should have a boyfriend and also kinda meanin’ that he must be a riot too!
She would tell me about the books she had been readin’ and the plays she saw and about all manner of new things she would see or hear about. And I would tell her about my club meetin’s and how my niece was studyin’ to be in the theatre, and I also told her a lot of South Carolina folk stories and such.
I really liked the way I always knew where I stood with her because she treated me the same way all the time and never acted like a stranger when she had company call on her. You know, some folks will crowd in real friendly on you but when company calls they get kind of distant and cold-like with you. No, she didn’t do that! She stayed on a nice even keel all the time and I would find myself tellin’ her things about myself simply because she wasn’t eaten up with curiosity about me like I was somethin’ peculiar.
It didn’t happen all of a sudden but one day it suddenly came to me that I thought a awful lot of Mrs. L … and that if she ever came to my door I’d be glad to invite her in without feelin’ a strain. I found myself doin’ little extras now and then and when she had a party or somethin’ like that I really put myself out to make it a nice affair because I was interested.
No, it wasn’t always smooth sailin’. There was times when she got on my nerves about somethin’, but I was always free to tell her about it and get things straightened out. Yes, and once in a while I’d skim over somethin’ I’d promised to do, but when she told me about it I never felt like she didn’t like me or was all tied up in knots about it. ’Cause she’d just speak her mind like, “I wish you’d get to the pantry shelves on Thursday because it’s inconvenient when you leave it until Monday.” And I’d say, “All right.” Other times I might say, “I can’t do it on Thursday if you have company comin’ in the evenin’.” And then we’d change things around so that the schedule would fit.
There was times when the work was piled up a little like at spring-cleanin’ time and then she’d pitch in, and we’d work together and get everything in ship-shape order. We’d eat lunch together and talk about what to do next, and there was no feelin’ of boltin’ your food down. But by and large I believe I did more work for that woman than for anybody that I’ve ever worked for.
She went off to California ’cause her husband was out there on a temporary job that turned permanent. Do you know what I did. Marge? I went down to the station to see her off! Yes, indeed, that’s a new one for me! Just before she waved goodbye, she said, “I’m really goin’ to miss you!” And I hollered out to her, “You will never have any trouble findin’ people to work for you and if you want I’ll send you references to show to the next party you employ!”
When she got out in California she sent me a note and told me that she had found a fine woman to take care of her home. That was several months ago.
This mornin’ I open the mailbox and here is this card from Mrs. L …, wishin’ me a happy birthday and promisin’ to call me when she visits New York next winter. Yes, Marge, I’m sorry she moved because I really liked workin’ at that place.
GOOD REASON FOR A GOOD TIME
COME ON IN, Marge, and take a load off your feet, Fix yourself some coffee and scramble some eggs, and while you’re at it, you can fix me some, too…. Girl, I had me one fine weekend…. I told you I was goin’ to spend a couple of days with Jim and Mabel, and believe me when I tell you I had one fine time! They know everyone under the sun, and they all came by Saturday night. And did we ball! Mabel’s backyard is about as big as a postage stamp, but we all got out there and made barbecue on the grill…. What old lanterns? We was workin’ strictly by moonlight … big fat full moon, too, girl!
We had cans of beer buried in a tub of ice, home-made potato salad, good old spareribs smothered in Jim’s special barbecue sauce, and frankfurter weenies, And don’t ask about the hot yeast rolls and cornbread!
Marge, the weather was tantalizin’, real warm, and every once in a while a cool breeze would brush its hand across your face and throw its arm around your shoulder, and then you’d hear the trees whisperin’ to each other … and between the smell of the rose bushes and the barbecue you’d get a whiff of hot rolls driftin’ out of the kitchen door, HONEY THEY LIVE!
And Jim can just keep you laughin’ with those tall tales of his, and Mabel sings sweet enough to break your heart … she almost did, but we stopped her in time…. Well, we stayed out there and sang and laughed until the night air got a little crisp, then we gathered everything up and went downstairs to the basement. Jim has built a little bar to one side, and Mabel has made red and white checked curtains and covers for the four card tables. And, Marge, you should have seen how she had candles stuck in bottles. Yes indeed, from moonlight to candlelight! … Then we danced a while … and who wasn’t no wallflower was me … but then, on the other hand, nobody was.
After a time we all sat back sippin’ tall cool drinks while Mabel and Jim talked to us about makin’ up a club…. Not so fast, Marge, I’m not usually a joiner, but this is a different kind of club. We are gonna give teas and parties and cocktail sips and bus rides and dinners and beach parties and birthday celebrations…. That’s right, and whenever we get the notion, we’ll have somebody speak to us about what’s goin’ on in the world. The first speaker is goin’ to tell us all about African and West Indian people.
I tell you, we got so excited over what we’d do ’til there was no stoppin’ us. I got up and told them that instead of givin’ any free formal dances with our treasury money, we oughta put out some books by colored writers, and if we had enough, we could give money to organizations that was tryin’ to make things better for everybody.
You should have heard Nellie layin’ out the plans! That girl has a million ideas for makin’ money and havin’ a good time too. The first thing she wants to do is have a tea leaf readin’ at her house…. Marge, you know Nellie don’t do nothin’ but tell a pack of lies when she reads them leaves, so we was kinda quiet about that until she went on and explained how there’d be a genuine West Indian dinner served along with the readin’…. Would make your mouth water: peas and rice, and souse, and garlic chicken, and cocoanut bread and ginger beer! You know I’ll be there! … When it comes around to Al and Geraldine, they’re goin’ to give a box-lunch hike out to the country and play baseball.
To tell the truth, I felt kind of guilty-like…. You know, havin’ such a whee of a good time…. It just didn’t seem possible that we could be helpin’ anybody when you enjoyin’ yourself as much as that…. Of course, I can get you in, Marge…. I particularly want you to join and, of course, whenever we give affairs anybody can come If they’ll let us soak them five dollars…. Yes, your boyfriend can join too! Girl, it makes me feel good all over to know that from now on in, my good times will count for somethin’ that’ll help people and make the world a better place to live in.
I’m tellin’ you, it’s beyond me how the people
I work for are always complainin’ about bein’ bored when there’s so many wonderful things to do!
I GO TO A FUNERAL
IF YOU’LL FIX the coffee, I’ll just sit down and rest myself a bit because I’m some wore out! … I know you told me not to go to the funeral, but you know how people can get so insulted at a time like that! Them things leave me weak and upset, and it ain’t because I’m afraid to die. I just can’t seem to put my finger on what bothers me, but I guess it’s a little bit of everything.
I only go to whatever funerals I have to, but even at that I’ve gone to quite a few. You know, I had to show up at Mitchell’s service today because I’m such good friends with his sister. Well, I can’t even go to a stranger’s funeral without cryin’ and sometimes I get to wonderin’ why I have so little control of myself. And I come to the notion that it’s because they want it like that…. No, I’m not kiddin’!
I got to the chapel a little early and it was all gloomy-lit with candles flickerin’ shadows on the wall and a organ that I couldn’t see was givin’ out some real weird sad-like tones…. No, I said tones and I don’t mean tune! It wasn’t no hymn that you’d ever heard before, it was just a sort of sweetish kind of whinin’ and groanin’.
Yes, indeed, the place was banked with flowers, all kinds of fancy pillows made out of roses and wreaths built up on big long stands. There was one floral piece that was made out of carnations and it was a clock with the hands pointin’ to the hour that Mitchell had died!
You just shoulda seen the flowers! There was sheaves of wheat and sprays of gladiolas and everything was tied with a ribbon-bow made out of net with satin stripes on it. His casket was gray plush and it was lined inside with white satin all crushed-up in little bunches like those Christmas boxes that necklaces come in.
I had to sit down real quick because I started to cry and get weak in the knees. I was hurt and mad all over because I know Mitchell wouldn’t of liked all that down-in-the-mouth kinda fixin’s! Not the way he used to laugh and make jokes all the time. Why, he was one of the most happy-actin’ people I ever knew. But I think what really got me was the little silver-paper words that was written across the net ribbons like “Rest in Peace,” “The Dear Departed” and “We Mourn.” It was a good thing that I had taken two or three handkerchiefs with me because I was a wreck!
Well, the organ kept goin’ on as the people came in and last of all the family came walkin’ down the aisle. I was surprised that there was so many of them because Mitchell always struck me as bein’ kinda lonely-like. Of course, I knew he had his sister, Emma, and his father, but here come about thirty-five people marchin’ together…. Oh, I suppose they were family in a cousin and aunt kinda way.
They was all dressed in black, and the women wore black veils over their hats and the men had on white shirts with black ties, plus black bands around their coatsleeves. The undertakers filed in behind them and went and sat over to one side near the front. There was a little light somethin’ like a readin’ lamp attached to the casket and shinin’ right in Mitchell’s face. The undertaker went over and put it out and then closed the lid, and the organ started goin’ on louder than before!
After the family was seated the service started and the minister read his obituary. It was very nice, I guess, but it didn’t sound very much like Mitchell. I mean, when the minister said, “The dearly beloved son of …” I got to thinkin’ how his father wasn’t speakin’ to him most of the time because Mitchell wanted to open a shoe-repair shop and his father wanted him to be a doctor.
… No, I don’t remember all of the obituary just little snatches like “… walked the straight and narrow path … was an inspiration in his every day life … lived a life of self-denial … humble and meek …” … No, honey, that wasn’t Mitchell at all and if he did go through any denial, it wasn’t self because he wanted some of everything there was to have and tried to get it. He just failed, that’s all!
… Oh, yes, they had singin’! One lady sang and she had a very nice voice, but she made it tremble too much. I guess she did that so it would sound real sad-like. It sure was sad ’cause she had the whole family sobbin’ and sniffin’ something terrible. She sang something about “Take Me Home” and it was all about wishin’ to go to Heaven.
The minister talked about him goin’ to his “just reward” and that really made people cry real hard. It beats me why his “just reward” would strike folks as bein’ so particular sad because I do think he was a good man as far as I know.
But the worst part was when the undertaker opened the casket again, and they asked every one to file up and look at him one more time. I smiled to myself a little because I distinctly remember that one of Mitchell’s favorite records was Count Basie’s “April in Paris,” and he used to holler out the part where the Count says, “one more time!” … And the whole time that I stood on line waitin’ my chance to look at him I could kinda hear him hummin’ “April in Paris.”
Yes, I guess you could say he looked all right, although I don’t know why people always ask, “How did he look?” … No, I don’t mean you in particular, I mean anybody. Marge, do you know what they had done to Mitchell? They had dressed him in a full-dress suit with a white carnation in the buttonhole and he was wearin’ white gloves! … Sure, they had bought it special because anyone that knew him could tell you that he liked clothes that were easy-like and was especially fond of tan and gray and green and colors like that!
When the last lookin’ was over, the service came to the end and the next part was goin’ out to the cemetery. I rode in one of the cars that was for his friends, and there was two fellas and a girl ridin’ with me. I felt a lot better as I heard them talkin’ about him because they were rememberin’ nice things he had said and done and talkin’ about him easy and free.
My, but there was a long train of black shiny cars lined up near his grave site in the cemetery and when they started unloadin’ his flowers, there was hardly enough space to put them. It suddenly struck me that this burial cost a heap of money!
Everyone stood there and cried as they lowered him in the ground, but they weren’t cryin’ as hard as they did in the chapel. Everyone threw a flower in the grave. I was plannin’ to keep a rose to bring home and press in my Bible, but a lady snatched it out of my hand and threw it away. She said, “It’s dead-bad-luck to bring flowers from the graveyard.” I asked her why and she said, “It means that there will be a death in your family!” Girl, it looks like nobody wants to go to their “just reward”!
When we got back in the cars, we headed over to Emma’s house for refreshments…. Oh, yes, she had all manner of goodies to eat and plenty to drink and everybody seemed a little relieved that the whole funeral business was over. People kept talkin’ about how Mitchell had been “put away beautifully,” “the family has certainly done handsomely,” “this is the way he would have wanted it,” “he would have been proud” and things like that.
I saw a lot of people that neither me nor Mitchell had seen in years, but I guess they were all wishin’ just like I was that we could have just one more time to be better friends to him. But the past is the past.
… How did he die? … No, he wasn’t sick long, he just went like that, real sudden. You know he had been tryin’ to get a nice shop location for a long time, but people wouldn’t rent it to him because he was colored…. Sure, Marge, they do like that with stores just the same as with houses! … Yes, Indeed, they will bar your way when it comes to tryin’ to buy money-makin’ property. Why do you think most colored businesses are all crowded into colored neighborhoods?
Sure, we want to sell things everywhere, too! After all, there’s plenty of white shopkeepers in Harlem! Anyway, Mitchell couldn’t find a good place so he just miseried along in first one little out-of-the-way side street and then another. One time he tried to get some white people to rent a place for him, but that got all bolexed up in legal procedure, and his father wouldn’t help him get the money although he had it to len
d. So last week Mitchell dropped dead. They said it was a heart attack, but I do believe he died of discouragement.
The reason I feel so bad about the whole thing is that I know he could have had a right smart little shop for what that funeral cost.
So, Marge, if there’s anything you’re plannin’ to do, and ten or fifteen dollars from me would help you, let me know now because I do not intend to ever buy you or anybody else any of those carnation clocks or pillows! … I’m not sayin’ you will go first! If it makes you feel better, we can pretend that I’m goin’ first, and you can advance me some dollars on my next summer’s vacation. And I want to thank you, too!
WEEKEND WITH PEARL
MARGE, I SPENT THE WEEKEND with Pearl and her husband. They have their place fixed up very nice…. Oh, yes, they have their own home now, but Pearl says that what with taxes and mortgages and painting and patching fences, walls, plumbing, windows, basement, roof and ’bout ninety-’leven other things it keeps them busy and also broke.
Anyway, we watched a lot of political speeches on their television because Leo is always highly interested in such things. It was just wonderful! … No, not the speakers, I mean her television set. It has a mahogany cabinet, a seventeen inch screen and very good reception. The speakers themselves were very interestin’, what with the Southerners callin’ all the shots and tellin’ the North off every other minute.
Well, what got me Marge was somethin’ one of the news commentators said. He announced that everybody on the political scene was avoidin’ the use of words like anti-lynch, F. E. P. C., and other words which would not be pleasin’ to the South. Ain’t that somethin’! I was some hot, I tell you!
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