by Anna Myers
"Oh, her name is Dottie Dimple. See, this is her friend, Lottie Love." She held up another doll.
"That's nice," I said, and I went to sit at the little table in the corner.
Lida Rose brought her dolls over to the table and spread them out. "Do you have a sister, Nobe?" she asked.
"No sisters. No brothers," I said.
"Me either," she said. "I wish I did have a brother." She leaned close to me. "He would play with me." Her pigtails bounced when she moved her head, and she studied me real close with her big blue eyes. "Well," she said. "You could be sort of my pretend brother."
"What does a pretend brother do?" I asked.
She sighed, like I was sure a trial to her patience. "The same thing a real brother does, of course. He plays with me."
I didn't feel like playing, but she smiled so sweet, I just nodded. "I'll play if I don't have to move none," I said. "I'm pretty tuckered out this morning."
That sounded fine to Lida Rose. "You just set right there," she said. "I'll be Zorro and do all the moving."
"Zero?" I said. I knew better, but I wanted to razz Lida Rose just a little.
"Not Zero!" She rolled her eyes. "Zero is nothing. Seems like a big boy like you would know that." I opened my mouth to defend myself, say I did know about zeroes, but she didn't give me a chance. "Zorro! He's this guy in the picture show. He lives where there are lots of bad guys."
"Tulsa?" I said. This time I wasn't trying to tease. I was just remembering the awful burning. "Or maybe right here in Wekiwa. We've got us one or two of those bad guys."
"No," she said, trying to be patient. "It's some place far away."
"Like California, maybe." I had never seen Zorro because there wasn't no picture show in Wekiwa, but I had heard about him. "Zorro is this Mexican guy who wears a mask and goes around helping out poor people who are in trouble."
Lida Rose clapped her hands. "You do know Zorro. Good.
Well, I'm Zorro, and you are the bad guy."
"Do I have a name?"
"We'll just call you the bad guy."
"Okay," I used my finger as a gun. "I've just shot at some poor people."
Lida Rose threw up her hand. "Wait! What will we do about my friend. Zorro has to have a friend?" She frowned. "We need one other person to be my friend." She looked around the room and grabbed a broom. "This will have to be him."
Just then Lester came through the back door. "Gosh," said Lida Rose, pointing at him with her head. "He could be the bad guy, and you could be my friend." She lowered her voice just a little. "He'd make a good bad guy." She studied Lester's face and shook her head. "I'm pretty positive there ain't no use to ask him does he want to play."
"I suspect you're right," I said, "but I've got to talk to Mr. Cotton before we start our game."
Lida Rose gave a little impatient sigh, but she let me talk. "How's Isaac?" I asked.
For a second, Lester looked at me like he wasn't going to answer, but he did. "Reckon you could go out there and ask him yourself."
I jumped up. "He's awake?"
"Wasn't talking when we hauled him in there last night, was he?"
I grabbed Lida Rose's hands and started to do a little dance with her. "When did he wake up?" I asked.
"You want to know every little detail, you've got to go out there." He turned to take his apron from the hook. "They don't pay me to stand around jawing all day."
"What's he talking about?" Lida Rose asked.
I just smiled. "He's trying to play like he's a bad man," I told her, "but the thing is, I know better."
"Are you here to flap your gums or to wash dishes?" Lester pointed at a stack of dishes beside the sink.
"I am here to play," I said, and I laughed. "Yes, sir, that's my true purpose." I moved my chair over to the corner, and for thirty minutes I was the bad guy while Lida Rose and her buddy the broom went around rescuing folks from the terrible things I done. She laughed a bunch too, and I couldn't stop smiling.
When the noon crowd came in to eat, I had to quit playing and tackle the dishes, but I still felt good, like a little kid who just got a full sack of candy. As soon as my work time was up, I headed out to Mrs. Mitchell's place.
I reckon I never did enjoy a walk more than I did that one, me with my heart all light, and that whole June day just as sweet as the little roses that were growing wild on some of the fences I passed. The first two miles I just enjoyed the day, and once I called out to a cow, "Hey there, old girl, Isaac is awake. I reckon the world ain't too bad a place, after all."
In the last mile there was three important places. Before I got to Cinda's, my mind got off Isaac and how glad I was to know he was all right. I went to thinking about Cinda. I didn't have no impure thoughts though. I just thought how she was like a sunflower, fresh and strong. I hoped maybe she'd be in the yard, swinging on that same swing where I'd seen her the first time or hoeing in the garden, but there wasn't no sight of her.
I wanted to stop and knock on her door. I thought about how Basil Bailey and his plane would likely be landing over at Widow Carter's place any minute now. I'd heard Basil and Willie was coming to stay with Oily the night before. Some folks was talking about going out to the widow's to watch them land.
Tomorrow was June 2, and I would get paid in the morning. Me and Cinda would be going on another plane ride in the afternoon. I didn't stop, though. I turned sort of shy. Cinda might ask why I stopped. I'd already told her to meet me at the widow's place tomorrow. Besides, I was in sort of a hurry to see Isaac. I just walked on by her house, but just in case, I looked back over my shoulder every once in a while until I couldn't see her house.
After Cinda's, it wasn't long until our old home place was in view. I didn't look over that way, not once, and I started to whistle. I didn't want to see Pa or me, the little boy with the lonely look on his face. I couldn't stand to look at that little boy, not on a day when my heart was so filled up with springtime and gladness. I just kept my head turned, and I kept right on whistling.
It wasn't long before I saw Mrs. Mitchell's place. When I got close enough to see the flowers in the window box, I couldn't walk anymore. I broke into a run, and I had to hold myself back from yelling out to Isaac and his mother.
Even outside I could smell the beans and cornbread. I'd had me a bite to eat at the Café, but I knew I'd eat again if I was asked, and I knew I'd be asked. Mrs. Mitchell came to the door when I knocked. "Come in, come in," she said. "Isaac's up." She grabbed my hand and pulled me inside.
He was setting at the table, but he got up when I walked in. "There's my rescuer," he said, and he punched me on the shoulder like he always does.
"I had help," I said, and I looked over at Mrs. Mitchell and wondered what she'd said to Isaac about the night before.
"Old Lester," he said, and he shook his head in wonder. "Mama told me you said he risked his life."
"He did," I said. "He got two guards to chase him, and he climbed over a building. I couldn't of done it without him."
"Sit down." Mrs. Mitchell pulled out a chair for me. "Cornbread's ready to come out of the oven, and I'd like nothing better than having my two favorite young men at my table."
I did, and boy was I hungry. The beans had big pieces of juicy ham in them, and I never tasted cornbread so sweet and good. After we finished, we just stayed at the table talking and laughing, mostly about airplanes and my experience with Basil Bailey. Isaac was interested in going up when Basil came to town the next day.
I figured Isaac wanted to talk more about the riot and about Lester, but he didn't want to talk in front of his mother. I wasn't surprised when after I said I had to go, Isaac said, "How about I use your car, Mama, to drive Nobe back to town?"
"You know that automobile is yours to use any time. After all, you did buy it. But are you sure you're up to driving?" She leaned across the table to look at him carefully.
He waved his hand toward his empty plate. "Don't you suppose it would take a pretty healthy fellow to put away that am
ount of beans and cornbread?"
Mrs. Mitchell smiled. Then her face got real serious. "You aren't planning to go back to Tulsa tonight, are you? I want you to stay away from there for a while."
"No." Isaac let his breath go in a sad sigh. "There's no rush for me to go back. There's no job to go back to, not even any bank building." He held his hands out in front of him and studied them like words were written there. "I still can't believe it."
Mrs. Mitchell got up and moved to put her hand on his shoulder. "You're alive. My boy's alive." Her voice broke. "It could have been the other way."
Isaac patted her hand, and then he stood up. "Well, Mr. Nobe," he said. "I'm ready when you are."
He didn't mention me driving. I wanted to, but I didn't say nothing. Later I thought about that a bunch. It could have been me that was behind the wheel when we drove into Wekiwa.
We had just barely turned away from the house to the main road when Isaac asked, "See him today, did you?"
I knew he was talking about Lester. "Yeah," I said. "He told me you were awake."
"He stayed outside my window all night." His voice had a strange, sort of faraway sound to it. "I heard him singing when I was unconscious. I know I did, and he was still out there when I woke up."
He stopped talking, but I didn't say nothing because I knew it wasn't that kind of stop. He had more to say and was just getting ready because he was fixing to say something big. When he went on, his voice sounded even stranger. "The funny thing is the song he was singing while I was out. I remember it now. He used to sing it to me all the time when I was little. See, I never remembered anything about him before, never anything about the time before they split up. I never remembered having a father at all, but I did. I had a father, and he sang to me."
"I'm glad," I said. "It's a nice thing to remember, having your pa sing you a lullaby." I looked out the window just then without realizing I'd see our place, but there it was. Sure enough I saw him. Pa was standing by the barn, sort of leaning against it. He had on that old straw hat that Ma put in the box with him. I didn't see that little blond boy, but something funny happened. Just before I lost sight of the ghost, he looked up and saw me, and he took off that hat and waved it. I wished that we'd been closer to the barn on account of I wondered if the ghost was smiling at me. I really, really wondered that.
"I want to see him again," Isaac said. "Do you know where he stays at night?"
I told him that I didn't. "He's at the Café sometimes around suppertime. Sometimes Daisy does the evening cooking herself, but sometimes Lester comes in for it."
He didn't say anything for about a half a mile. We just rode along in silence, Isaac thinking about his pa and me about mine. Then Isaac said, "Will you tell him I want to see him and ask him to tell you when and where?" He sort of bit at his lip. "I can't ask him myself. Doesn't that sound silly, me being a grown man and all? But I just can't."
"No, it don't sound silly," I said, "not to a fellow like me. I reckon I been there, same as you. The difference being that you still got a chance to get that blessing, the one pas give their sons."
We rode along without talking for a while, then I said, "Isaac, what are you going to do about them white folks? You know, the ones that went crazy and burned up Black Wall Street."
"Do about them?"
"Well, the law sure wasn't acting like they was going to put them in jail or anything. Leastways, I didn't see no sign of it the other night. Seems like it was the coloreds got all the blame."
"Yes," Isaac said. "We weren't blameless, not in the beginning. There shouldn't have been a mob of us down there. The law was not going to let anyone get lynched, but there's no excuse for what Mama told me you saw happen later, all those innocent people getting their homes and businesses burned. I wonder if anyone even knows how many innocent people died, all because hate got out of hand."
"So, if the law ain't going to do anything, what are you going to do?"
Isaac shook his head, and he smiled a sort of sad little smile. "Maybe I won't ever go back to Tulsa." He sort of bit at his lip. "Nothing to go back to really." He shrugged. "But maybe I will. Maybe I can find some kind of work there, and just maybe there'll be folks who can start to rebuild. If there are any, maybe I'll help out some. Guess I'll wait and see what happens."
I could see he hadn't understood my question, so I tried again. "But what about getting even? If the law ain't going to do something, shouldn't you? Shouldn't you do something to sort of get those bad guys that picked on them innocent people and burned their places and all? Shouldn't you do something like that guy Zorro does in the picture shows?"
Isaac smiled. "I think Zorro is Mexican, not colored," he said. "No, Nobe, I won't try to get even. There's just no profit in it. Getting even just generates more hate, and hate multiplies. It has a way of turning back on those who do the hating and eating them away."
"But you'd be right," I said. "You'd be right to get even."
Isaac shook his head. "A very wise person once told me that it is better to do right than to be right. If I do right, I'll try to make peace with white people."
"Who?" I asked. "Who told you that?"
"My mother," he said. "Martha Mitchell. The same woman who always calls you Noble instead of Nobe."
"Well, maybe she knows all about doing right, but she sure don't know much about me. I'm Nobe. There ain't one little part of me that's Noble. When somebody hurts me or my dog, I get even."
"No." Isaac shook his head. "I'm not interested in getting even, but I'll tell you something, Nobe. I'm beginning to think maybe that Professor Du Bois might have been partly right. Maybe it is time for colored people to start to stand up for ourselves, speak out for what's right."
I wanted to ask how Isaac thought he'd go about that, but I never got to ask because of what happened next. We was in town by then, just rounding the corner on Main Street. Isaac had just finished saying that about changing his mind when suddenly there was something moving, running right into the street. At first I only saw a red blur, but then in a split second I knew. Lida Rose! Lida Rose in her new red dress.
"God, no!" Isaac yelled, and he slammed on the brakes.
We couldn't stop in time. I felt a horrible bump. That's when I heard a scream, and I kept hearing it over and over. The car swerved. Isaac grabbed hard at the wheel, and he brought the car to a stop. My head bounced back and forth, and I sort of lost track of what was happening. I didn't lose track of that screaming, though. The screaming filled up the whole car, and even before I had a chance to look out of the window, I knew it was Daisy making that terrible sound.
Chapter 9
WE JUMPED OUT of the car to see people gathering around something in the street. I couldn't see very well, but I saw something red. "Get the doc," someone shouted.
"Isaac," I yelled, "we hit her!"
He came around from his side of the car. "I know," he said. "She ran right out in front of me, and I hit her. I hit that little girl." He leaned against the car.
For just a second, I was confused, unable to move, but then I pushed my way through the people. Daisy was on the ground, holding Lida Rose's head. Daisy had stopped screaming. Her face looked like it had been painted white, and her eyes stared out in front of her like they had been just painted on too and weren't real at all.
I dropped down beside them, and I took hold of Lida Rose's hand. "Lida Rose," I said. Then I turned to Daisy. "Can she talk?" I asked, but Daisy didn't say anything.
I heard someone say, "Out of my way," and I knew Doc Sage was coming.
I moved so he could get to Lida Rose. He knelt down, took her arm, lifted her eyelid, and put his hand on her chest. "This child is dead," he said.
There were sounds of disbelief and sorrow from the crowd. Daisy started to moan and to rock back and forth. I tried to lift my foot to go to her, but I couldn't. My whole body felt too heavy to move, like it was made of cement.
A woman from the crowd came to pull Daisy up and away fro
m the body. Doc Sage lifted Lida Rose up in his arms. The crowd parted, and Doc walked with Lida Rose toward the furniture store. The belt of her new red dress trailed after them.
Then I remembered Isaac, and the heaviness left me. I whirled around to see the car. Isaac still stood there beside it, but he was not alone. Sheriff Leonard stood beside him, and Isaac had on handcuffs.
"Oh, no," I yelled, and I ran to stand beside Isaac. "You can't arrest Isaac," I said. "It was an accident. Just a terrible accident. Lida Rose run right out in front of us. There wasn't a thing Isaac could do about it."
Sheriff Leonard gave me a disgusted look. "Who pulled your chain?" he asked. "I don't recollect asking you what should I do."
"You can't arrest a man for hitting someone who run right out in front of him." My hands were clenched into fists, ready to fight.
"Look here." The sheriff pointed to his badge. "Do you see this here? Well, that badge means I am the law in this town. I decide who gets arrested. It ain't none of your call, but if you'll calm yourself down, I'll tell you I'm taking this boy in for his own protection." He pointed with his head to ward the crowd of people still in the street. "That crowd's fixing to turn mean."
I looked at the people. Some were crying, some shaking their heads as they talked to each other. I didn't see anyone who seemed angry. Then I saw Cinda. There was people between us, but she was pushing her way through. I stood there waiting, and she never took her eyes off me as she moved.
"My father and I saw the accident, Sheriff," she called out when she got close. "Just ask him. He can tell you it wasn't Isaac's fault."
"Ain't no shortage of young ones in this town trying to do my job for me," he grumbled, and he gave Isaac a shove. "Move on to the jail, boy," he said.
Isaac started walking, but he turned his head toward me. "Let my mother know what happened," he said. "Take her car home and tell her."
"I will," I said. "I'll tell Lester too." I stood there watching until the sheriff and Isaac went inside the jail.
Cinda stood beside me, and she reached out to put her hand on my arm. That's how I learned that I was shaking. I saw Cinda's hand shaking with my arm. "Nobe," she said real soft. "Oh, Nobe."