'But, darling, all of life is not commercial. The best parts of it are not commercial. Love and marriage, children and homes. Those we control. Our physical beings, our personal integrity, our private property-we have as much protection for these as anyone. As long as we conform to the pattern of segregation we do not have to fear the seizure of our property or attack upon our persons.
'And there are many other values that you are not taking into consideration-spiritual values, intrinsic values, which are also fundamental components of our lives. Honesty, decency, respectability. Courage-it takes courage to live as a Negro must. Virtue is our own, to nurture or destroy.
'After all, darling, these are the important things in life. These things that are within us that make us what we are. And we can control them. Every person, no matter of what race, creed, or colour, is the captain of his soul. This is much more important, really, than being permitted to eat in exclusive restaurants, dwell in exclusive neighbourhoods, or even to compete economically with people of other races. It depends, darling, on our own sense of values.'
For a long time after she'd stopped talking I didn't say anything at all because I was just getting it. If somebody had told me this a long time ago, made me see it in just this way, it would have saved me a lot of trouble. Because I was seeing it then for the first time. No matter what the white folks did to me, or made me do just in order to live, Alice and I could have a life of our own, inside of all the pressure, away from it, separate from it, that no white person could ever touch. I saw that then, and I turned to her, tense and serious.
'Will you marry me, Alice?'
I never saw her mouth go so tender as when she said, 'Yes, Bob. Didn't you know that I would?'
I went all buttery inside. 'When?'
'Whenever you want.'
'Next month?'
She nodded. I leaned forward and kissed her again with long and steady pressure. Her eyes closed, her lashes lowering like two tiny fans on her cheeks, and her body flowed forward as her lips came out to meet mine, soft and resilient and budding and full of hope, like the beginning of a new life. That was when I knew it, when I lost all doubt. I could take anything the white folks wanted to put on me, as long as I had this. Because this was it; I knew this was it; this was the number that John saw.
When we broke apart she sat there for a time, relaxed, with her eyes closed; and when she opened them they held a little laugh. 'Will you apologize to the girl you had the fight with?' she asked.
I began laughing too, deep inside. 'You never give up, do you, baby?' I said, adding, 'You know I will.'
Suddenly she said, 'I don't want you to.'
We both laughed together, so wonderfully happy. 'You only win,' I said.
After a moment she started to tell me how she came to know Stella. I tried to stop her, but she had to tell me, she said, she had to get it out from between us. A girl friend of hers had suggested they go there one night after they'd attended a concert at the Hollywood Bowl. She'd gone back once with the same girl. While she'd been hep to the play, it had only been curiosity on her part; she'd never been up with it, never even gone as far as she had the night I was with her. But what was great about it was that I believed her.
After that we had a togetherness we felt nothing could destroy. We felt we'd gotten over the river Jordan into the promised land. Did you ever just know you were right? No matter whether you were gambling or working or operating on a guy, you just had that feeling and you knew it. That was the way it was with us.
'I'm part you now and you're part me,' she said.
'I'm all you.'
'No, I'm all you, if anything.'
'Unh-unh, we're both it.'
Then we were laughing again.
We'd be married sometime the middle of July, we planned.
'People will think funny things because no one ever marries in July,' she said.
'What do we care what people think?' Then I said, 'I'll sell my car and buy us a house. A fellow offered me two grand for it just a couple of weeks ago.'
'I saw the cutest little place for sale. On a little hill beside Monterey Road.'
'Way out there? It'll take me a year to get to work.'
'I'll drive you to work every morning, but you'll have to arrange to ride back with someone else. Although I could meet you downtown every evening-perhaps at the P.E. station.'
'Unh-unh, a bar's the place,' I said.
Then we became serious and talked about means.
'You can keep your job until the first baby comes,' I consented, feeling very male and important. 'But after that it'll be home, sweet home for you, baby.'
'It might be some time before we're able to afford a baby,' she pointed out. 'You're going to be a schoolboy for about three years-don't forget that, Papa.'
'Oh, we'll have the baby whether we can afford it or not,' I said.
She gave me a sly, sidewise glance and began giggling. 'How do you know?'
I was startled for a moment, then I began laughing.
She wouldn't help me to decide about my job. Whether to quit and go to another yard or stay on at Atlas as a mechanic. That was entirely up to me, she said. But she did point out that I might be better off if I stayed on at Atlas and tried to get my job back so I could keep my deferment.
'One thing,' I said. 'Wherever I go, I'll keep out of trouble. I'll get along and make good on the job. You won't have to worry about that.'
She leaned over and kissed me. 'Don't behave too well, darling. I might not love you so much.'
'Anyway, when I enter U.C.L.A. this fall I'll have to go on the graveyard shift, and there might be a better bunch of workers.'
It was exciting, planning for the future. It gave everything a new meaning, an importance it had never had before.
Suddenly I noticed something strange and looked around. All of the cars that had been there when we came were gone. I glanced at my watch. It was a quarter to two.
'I'll have to run,' I said.
'You'll have dinner with us. We'll tell Dad and Mother.'
'I know they'll jump for joy.'
She laughed. 'Oh, they like you, really, darling. And they've already guessed how I feel.'
I paid the check and turned to kiss her. I didn't want to ever let her out of my arms, but finally I had to. Then I jumped out, hurried over to my car. I turned one way, she turned the other; we waved to each other. I'll never forget her smile just before she pulled away.
Driving back, I noticed the fields of young corn beside the road and resolved right then to get some place where we could have a victory garden. It'd be fun growing things.
For the first time in my life I felt satisfied. I didn't think of marrying Alice as a way out. I felt that it was what I wanted, what I'd always wanted. I could see myself at forty, dignified, grey at the temples, pleading the defence of a Negro youth. 'Gentlemen of the jury, let me tell you about frustration, a social disease, a disease imposed on peoples of minority groups over and above their control. It is this frustration that drives these youngsters to crime; it is as if society picks them up bodily and hurls them into it. Gentlemen of the jury, I say to you, it is as unjust to condemn this youth for a disease that society has imposed on him…'
Goddamn, I sounded like Clarence Darrow himself, I thought, laughing out loud. Then I sobered. Maybe by that time people would have gotten over the notion, I thought. Maybe they wouldn't be so prone to believe that every Negro man was the same, maybe they would have realized how crazy the whole business was. I sure hoped they'd have some goddamn sense by the time my son was grown.
But my mind wouldn't hold it. My thoughts were full of Alice. I just shook my head. It was one of those miracles. I was a different guy; didn't think the same; didn't feel the same. That was what it did for me. Set me up. Big tough world, but I got you beat now, I thought exultantly. Peace, Father, it is truly wonderful.
CHAPTER XX
When I checked back in I decided suddenly to have a talk with Mac. I
was worrying about my job deferment. At the last minute I didn't want to have to go into the Army and lose everything-Alice and my dream and even my good intentions. So I swallowed my pride and turned toward the tin-shop office.
Mac kept me waiting again; but I waited. Finally when he saw I wasn't going to leave he beckoned me over.
'What's on your mind, Bob?' he asked, his big sloppy body overflowing his huge desk chair, and his eyes twinkling in his jolly red face as if I was the one guy he wanted to see the most.
'I'd like to talk to you about staying on in my job,' I said, swallowing. 'I promise you, you won't have any more trouble out of me.' It was hard getting it out but I made it.
'Think you've learned your lesson, eh?' He beamed. 'Got that chip off your shoulder, eh?'
I swallowed again, felt my Adam's apple bobbing in my throat. 'Yes sir,' I said in a high, weightless voice.
'That's fine,' he purred, looking about. I was suddenly conscious that everybody in the office was listening. 'Think you can co-operate with the other workers now without losing your temper?'
'Yes sir.'
He wagged his finger at me and said laughingly, 'Now you're just trying to keep out the Army-that's it, isn't it?'
'I'll admit I don't want to go into the Army,' I said. 'But that's not the reason I want to keep my job.' I paused, then told him, 'I want to get married.'
'Well! Married eh?' His big jolly face took on a congratulatory expression. 'Marriage'll do you a lot of good, boy. Settle you; make you more reliable.' He paused, then showed a friendly interest. 'One of the girls in the yard?'
'No, sir, she's a social worker,' I said. 'A supervisor in the city welfare department.' It did me a lot of good to tell him that.
'Oh!' His face went suddenly sober and a peculiar distrustful look came into his eyes. 'Did you ever hear of Executive Order No. 8802?' he asked abruptly.
I didn't get the connection right away but I said, 'Yes sir, its the President's directive on fair employment.'
He gave a deep belly grunt and some of the twinkle came back into his eyes. ' Directive! That's right! The President's directive. It's a good thing,' he said, and his gaze came up in a swift, sharp, searching look.
I knew I should have let it go right then and there, but the half-sneering way he said it got under my skin. 'I think it's a good thing too,' I said. 'I think it oughta be enforced.'
Now his face got sober again. 'We enforce it here at Atlas. To the letter! You know that!' When I didn't reply right away he pressed me, 'You know that, don't you?'
Now I was sorry I'd said anything at all because I had to say, 'Yes sir,' to keep out of an argument.
He nodded, then went reflective. 'But your case doesn't come under that. There's no discrimination involved in your demotion whatsoever. People who want to agitate might tell you that, but it isn't so….'
All of a sudden I caught the connection between Alice being a social worker and the Executive Order-Mac figured she'd been talking to me, probably trying to get me to use the nodiscrimination angle.
'I'd have done the same to any other leaderman who'd cursed a woman,' he went on. 'Been forced to. A matter of discipline.' He paused, waiting for me to say something.
There wasn't anything for me to say.
Then he beamed at me. 'I tell you what I'll do with you, Bob. You go back up there and work under Tebbel for a while. Prove that you're dependable, trustworthy, that you can keep out of trouble. Take your punishment like a man, then make a comeback. That's the American way, my boy. Prove yourself. Then come back here and see me. I'll see if I can get Kelly to put you back as a leaderman.'
I swallowed, took a breath. 'When must I come back?'
He looked impatient. 'You'll know that better than me. Whenever you feel can put dependence in you; when you think you can handle a little authority without losing your head again.'
I had to get some help from Alice before I could say it that time. 'Yes sir. I'll do my best.'
I noticed Marguerite looking at me curiously when I went out. I wondered what she was thinking.
On the way across the yard one part of my mind kept telling me that I'd made a mistake speaking to Mac-that he'd figure I was trying to jive him and never reinstate me. But the other part of my mind argued that it had done some good. I had let him know I wanted my job bad enough to get along with the white workers in order to keep it. And I'd humbled myself, if that was what he wanted. Then there was always a chance that he might really mean it. Perhaps if I worked hard and kept out of arguments he really would reinstate me. I'd have to take people at face value, I told myself; have to believe they meant what they said instead of always picking it to pieces.
Then too it was a cinch Tebbel wouldn't be able to keep it. He didn't know enough about the work for one thing. And another thing, his race baiting was going to get him into trouble with those guys in my gang sooner or later. He'd say the wrong thing once too often and one of them would hang him. I didn't want anybody to get into any more trouble; there'd already been too much excitement about the whole thing. If I'd just let it die down, maybe the whole thing would come out right-I'd come to work one Monday morning and Kelly would tell me to take over my gang again.
I was thinking so hard about it, I was up on the third deck before I realized it. Everybody in my gang was working like mad. Two fire pots were going and all three girls were soldering. Red was helping Homer hang his duct; they were crouching on the staging beneath the upper deck bolting the stays, puffing and blowing. Conway was riveting a joint; Arkansas was bucking for him. Pigmeat was drilling rivet holes. The place was smoky, smelly, sweltering; and the din was terrific. They were knocking themselves out.
'What're you folk doing?' I shouted. 'Working for E buttons?' Several of them heard me; they slowed up, looking as guilty as if I'd caught them in something wrong. I wondered what the hell it was all about. Then Conway stopped for a moment to explain. 'Tebbel got Kelly to give us a good job for a change. Soon as we's finished here we's going up and work on deck, in the superstructure.'
Ben was working near enough to hear over the din. 'Ole Marsa's gonna free us at last,' he cracked; but even he seemed happy over the prospect.
Smitty stopped his work and came over beside me. 'It show you how them dirty sonabitches do,' he said. 'Just soon's they get you out and a white boy in your place they start giving us better jobs.' Maybe he thought he sounded sympathetic, but he looked gleeful.
Tebbel just stood to one side and looked like the cat who ate the canary. I knew what Kelly was doing. The superstructure was a plum job-cool, airy, with a good view of the harbour; and the guys could stroll out on deck and enjoy the sunshine. He was selling my gang on Tebbel, fixing it so they wouldn't want me back. They'd all think just like Smitty-what Mac had done to me might be a dirty trick, true enough, but a white leaderman could get them better jobs, after all.
Red and Homer got their duct tied and swung down from the staging. 'Damn, I'll sure be glad to get out of this hole,' Red said, flexing his muscles back into place. Then he turned to me. 'What you gonna do, Bob, you gonna stay on with us?'
'I don't know yet,' I said.
'Hell, if it was me I'd quit,' Homer said.
'Ef'n it were me I'd get some bombs and set 'em all over everywhere and blow up the ship,' Pigmeat said.
'Boy, hush!' Conway said. 'The FBI'll have you for sabotage.'
I noticed that none of them said anything about wanting me to stay on as their leaderman. It looked like I was out to stay.
Then George came up. 'Say, Bob, why don't you go up and look over the job?' he said as if to sort of apologize for the way they felt. 'Tell us what we got to do.' He looked around at Tebbel, lowered his voice. 'You know more 'bout this work than Danny do anyway.'
'Okay,' I said, giving a half-smile. 'I will.' I wanted to get away from them for a moment; I felt pretty low.
I climbed to the superstructure, bumping into other workers absent-mindedly, trying to make up my mind wheth
er to quit at the end of the day or stay on. It was five after three then… It'd be easier to quit, I thought. But the proof would be to stay on there and make a comeback. I kept on up to the bridge, glanced idly at the gun installations down on the deck, debating whether to talk it over with Alice. I decided not to do it; I'd make the choice myself, stop leaning on her for every little thing. I looked into the chartroom, wandered out again, went down to the weather deck, and wandered over toward the railing.
But I couldn't make up my mind. Then I remembered I'd promised George to look over the job, went back to the deckhouse, and strolled through the companionways, peeping into various rooms. I didn't know what they were all for; various lockers and the officers' quarters, I imagined. I'd have to get a print to tell anything about it. Of course the ventilation didn't look as though it ought to be very complicated, I thought. The place could ventilate itself.
Pipe fitters and electricians were at work in some of the rooms. Outside a woman painter was spraying the bulkheads with red lead. There wasn't a great deal of activity; the superstructure would be the last place to be outfitted-start at the bottom and work up.
I was going aft to take a gander down into the engine-room when I noticed a closed door, put my hand on the knob, and pushed inside to see what it might hold. It was dark inside after the glaring sun on the deck, but I saw an extension cord running underneath the door, traced it to the lamp hooked over a clip tacked to the bulkhead, snapped on the light.
I just had time to notice that it was a cabin with facing bunks and two portholes to starboard tightly covered with old newspaper when someone grunted sleepily, 'Unh!' I jerked around. There was a saggy mattress on one of the bunks and a bigbodied woman with dyed blonde hair was lying on it, sleeping, with her face to the wall.
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