In Search of Satisfaction

by J. California Cooper

  The rain was coming down hard, hard. The roof was holding up, but water was coming in under the loose floor boards. Ruth got up as quickly as her tired body allowed and shook out her wet dress. As Joel became more aware he moved quickly to push loose dirt to the wall with his hands, trying to stop the water. Ruth hastily searched and found the broken end of a shovel and handed it to him. They smiled together. He looked around for loose boards laying on the ground of the shack. Finding them, he dug a trench around the edge of the walls and set the boards in, shoring them with dirt. It worked. They rested, sitting close for warmth. As a place in the wall would weaken and let water through, Joel would dig dirt from the uphill side of the shack to strengthen the shoring. Ruth was happy being there with him even in all that mud and cold, but she was now very hungry. The only thing that kept her from being ugly-evil about it was being there with Joel. She had liked him before, mightily. Now, she loved him more. He knew how to do things! He was a man. And … best of all, he looked at her with such sweetness in his eyes. She didn’t know whether to thank God for the storm or not.

  Between bouts with the water and dirt, they talked. She, shyly, which made Joel more bold. A potato-bug could tell they liked each other, a lot. When their stomachs growled, they laughed. Nothing was too hard to stand while they were together. A few hours passed, the storm hardly seemed to be letting up.

  Time passed. There was now a deep hole where Joel had been digging for dirt. The storm seemed to slacken, but any light from the sun behind the dark clouds was really gone now, and it was dark, truly dark. As the time to go came closer, the hearts above the empty stomachs wanted to linger. They were holding hands for moments at a time now. They were sitting closer now, for warmth, yes, but mostly for the thrill of it. Joel didn’t want this time with Ruth to end, nor did she, so they decided to shore the wall one more time before they made a run for home. As he moved on his knees over to the dry-dirt hole, he smiled over his shoulder at her. He spoke, “You sure no fella have spoken for your heart in marriage? Your mama ain’t promised you to nobody?” His foot hit the bug’s new mudpile and the bug rushed out.

  Ruth laughed softly, blushed, shook her head no. The bug, seeing no immediate harm coming, rushed back in to its toppled mudpile and began repair on it.

  Joel laughed happily and bent deeper in the hole to break the dirt with the piece of shovel. Suddenly the shovel flew out of his hand as he hit something hard in the dirt. Ruth screamed, because you know there are all kinds of snakes and animals in the country. Joel started up, then, quick as a minute, he grabbed his piece’a shovel and began digging in the ground again. “Help me,” is all he said. Then there was silence except for the sound of heavy breaths and grunts, and they were covered again, with dirt clinging to their sweat. They pulled a long, narrow toolbox out of the ground. The water was rushing in again at the floor, but they did not see it now. Nor did they care. What wonder was this? was in both their minds. The bug’s new home was flooded. It fell on its back, legs scrambling wildly to right herself. She could not understand what was happening. She righted herself and began burrowing, seeking her place. She felt the birthing near.

  Joel and Ruth looked at each other over the box, reading each other’s thoughts. Their future could be in that box! Or nothin! Why would anybody want to hide an old toolbox if wasn’t nothin in it?! Everythin or plain ole, useless, Confederate money!

  Ruth started crying from nervous hope and a built-in, lifelong expectation of nothing but some man she hoped she would be able to love, who might someday get a piece of land of their own or … be a sharecropper forever. She had never known anyone who got ahead or got over. They got away. But then you didn’t know what happened to them, mail and transportation being what it was. Some of her mama’s sisters and brothers had “gotten away,” but were very seldom heard of and almost never from. Just there, there where she was born, lived and grew, was all she knew. But her mama worked for the Befoes, and Ruth knew there was “better” than what she had ever known or would ever live, don’t care how long she lived or how old she got! But … maybe? She looked at the box. Maybe … her own house, Lord? Please?

  Joel stared at the box. His thoughts were like Ruth’s except in a man’s way, because their experience with life had been the same. He wanted a wife and children he could take care of. Would this box change his life? Could it be possible God had … No, God wouldn’t. For him? Why? He didn’t always live right. Joel, dreaming and praying, looked into space beyond the walls of the shack. He looked back at the box. Maybe wasn’t nothin in the damn ole thing noway. Then hope and need beat out despair. Money? Gold? His own house and land and … Marry his woman he wanted? Or just plain ole Nothin? The bug, feeling secure within her scarcely finished mudhole, began to give birth.

  Joel and Ruth looked at each other for several moments, not eager to lose a dream to just discover more of nothing in their lives. Then, without saying a word, Ruth grabbed the shovel and beat on the lock. Joel took the shovel away and hacked at the lock. It loosened … and fell off. He threw the lid back.

  There were tools, old rusty tools: an old, old hammer, a chisel, some measuring sticks, nails, nails, nails. Joel turned the box over, dumped every thing out. Ruth put her hands on her face and burst into tears. It had all happened so quick! The nothing, the hope, the fear, the dream, the hope, then … nothing. Joel pushed the tools around, searching, even though he could see there was nothing. He looked at Ruth, sniffling now. He tried to smile. Said in a cracked, strained voice, “Nothin.” He shook his head sadly. The bug, burrowed in now, breathing hard, still patting the earth down to make a place safe to leave her young.

  “Well,” he sat back on the now muddy floor. “Well, the shack kep us dry. And we kep warm …” He looked down at the box, “This ought to be good for somethin. I’ll clean up the tools can use em to work, make money maybe.” He slowly stood and reached for the box, but Ruth kicked it over and grabbed her hurt foot the same time the bottom fell out of the toolbox and the heavy black bag lay at their feet. They both reached for it, then Ruth said, “Go head” and held her hurt foot again. Joel cut the strings of the black bag and gold and silver coins fell to the ground along with a small jewelry box.

  Ruth could count quicker than Joel. She did not know the value of the gold coins, but there were fifty-eight of them and about forty silver coins. She opened the jewelry box and the large one-and-a-half carat diamond ring flashed its brilliance for her. She pressed the ring to her breast and asked Joel, “Whose things is these?”

  Serious, Joel answered, “I don’t know they name, but I know it was a white man.”

  Ruth thought a moment. “Didn’t have to be.”

  Joel smiled. “A Negro would’a done come back and got his gold already!”

  Ruth thought some more. “Well, if’n we ask anybody, they gonna claim it!”

  Joel started putting the coins back into the bag. “I knows it.”

  Ruth held the ring tighter to her breast. “What ought we to do? Is it yours or mine?”

  Joel smiled. “It’s ours. Somebody else gonna lie and take it, so we might as well lie and keep it.”

  Ruth leaned forward. “How it gonna be ours?”

  Now, Joel, back on his knees, was thoughtful, but he knew his answer already. “Well …” He leaned back, rubbed his chin like he remembered seeing his daddy do long ago. “Well … I don’t know if you blive me or no, but I was gonna ask you to marry up wit me, be my wife. I loves you. I knew that already.”

  Ruth’s smile grew until her nose was at her hairline and her mouth covered her face and seemed like you could look in that smile and see her heart. “You was?!”

  Joel smiled big, too! “I is askin you now!” He reached for her hand. “Well? C’n you see yourself a’marryin up wit me?” Ruth looked at him as if he was losing his mind and like he was her heart, all at the same time. He went on, “We c’n get our own land, our own farm. Our childrun c’n go to school. I c’n build you a big, good, nice house
. I c’n buy a mule, naw, a horse! Two of em! A plow … tools. I’ll work hard for you! For my fam’ly!”

  Ruth, still smiling, “I’ll make a good home for you, too, and give you beautiful babies what look just like you.” She blushed. “Joel, you so beautiful.” They reached for each other’s hands and held them.

  Ruth spoke first, “Who must we tell?”

  “Don’t tell nobody!”

  “We can’t spend that gold like that!”

  Joel nodded. “Let’s think bout it. Don’t tell nobody, even your mama. I’m a man now. I’m your man now. This is ’tween us’uns.”

  Ruth nodded her head, yes, slowly. She looked down to the hole in the ground. Joel followed her gaze, and said, “Let’s fill it back, much as we c’n and set the toolbox back in it. Ain’t nobody looked out here in a whole lotta years, I bet.”

  “Must’a didn’t.”

  So they worked until the floor was uneven, but filled. They stamped the earth as they laughed and planned. Joel put the bag of money inside his damp shirt; Ruth held the ring in its box in her hand. They were happy! Isn’t money something sometime? Then they held hands and, running lightly, laughing and bumping into each other, found their way back to the field and to home as they made plans for the marriage and how to change the gold into money they could spend without worrying who could notice them and think on it. They, now, had a life!

  The mother bug had now cleared a circle of space she did not really like. Her other, first home she had prepared for the birth had been done slowly with care for her babies. Now this would have to do. Her little eyes blinked sadly. Finally all the babies were born. The rain was gone, the water stopped. The mother bug spread her arms and legs around her brood under her stomach and, blinking her eyes in the dark hole, she settled down softly to being a mother.

  and that is how Josephus Josephus’ other daughter, Ruth, got her inheritance from him. Yinyang got hers from the tree, Ruth got hers from the ground. The dead ex-slave had helped both his daughters.

  chapter

  3

  having finally reached New Orleans by train, Yinyang walked the streets of the beautiful, dirty, fun-filled, sin-swollen, rich-poor, parading, busy city filled with all kinds of smells of good food. Hungry, but afraid to take her money out, fearful of everything and everybody, she walked until she came upon a school building. She walked around it a few times. Finally she went in, asking to speak “to a KIND woman.”

  “Is … is there a nice person here who likes … people? A kind woman?”

  The lady behind the counter sniffed down at the dirty, little street urchin. “What do you want? Is this some sort of joke?” She stepped back from Yin.

  “No mam. But … I need … to talk to a … nice person. Someone kind.”

  “Are you registered here? Who are you? Who are your … parents?”

  “They are … dead.” The face before her looking down at her with such disdain made her panic. “I … never mind. I’ll go.”

  “Well, I should hope so, young … woman. We are busy here!”

  A rather tall lady dressed neatly in black with a white lace collar, stepped into the office, rushing, carrying papers, and heard the last remark. “What is the matter, Miss Wench? Who is this?”

  “Nobody and nothing, if you ask me, Miss Able. I was …”

  The woman turned to Yin. “Nobody and nothing?” She smiled, “What is the matter dear?”

  Yin turned to go, almost whispered, “Nothin, I just wanted to … Nothin, mam, please.”

  The woman reached for Yin’s arm, gently. “I have no business to attend to right this minute, why not come in and have a cup of coffee with me?”

  Yin looked at the clerk behind the counter with fear. The woman, Miss Able, understood. “Come now, there is nothing to fear. We might even be able to help you. My name is Miss Able.” Yin slowly stopped pulling away, dropped the muddy carpetbag and started crying. “Oh, my.” Miss Able soothed. “Oh, my, I hope there is no need for tears. Come with me, dear. Let us talk.” In about ten minutes, Miss Able excused herself from school business that day and took Yin home with her. Yin still pouring out her story to the kind woman.

  The next day, bathed, dressed neatly in things Miss Able had gathered, Yin was found lodging, registered in school, bought clothes with contributions garnered by Miss Able. (Yin did not tell her about the gold.) Yin’s new life began. Thinking of becoming a young lady, she hugged herself with joy. She would be in school and learning; she laughed out loud with pleasure.

  Yinyang had not been to school since she had studied with the teacher back home. Students her own age were now beyond her capacity. She stayed with the younger students because she was learning, but she was so embarrassed with the older students teasing her. They say children can be cruel; many children grow to be adults and stay that way.

  Yin stuck with school about two years, mostly because of the caring Miss Able. Then, she stopped going a few days a week. Gradually, she quit going all together. Miss Able urged her to continue, because an education would be so important to a young lady. But Yin’s thoughts were already beyond the school.

  Yin had taken to stopping at a small, genteel coffee shop each day as she walked home from school. She had noticed the young ladies, only a bit older than she was, talking so excitedly, looking so fresh and lovely in such becoming clothes. Beautiful clothes, grand hats, superb, laced shoes. With heels! Because she was so well mannered, she had made friends with the serving help and she asked about a job. Wonder of wonders! They hired her to walk around the shop with the silver coffee pot, filling the cups, keeping the coffee warm. Mostly ladies came to the coffee shop. They talked of love, lovers, clothes and things that sound so glamorous. Very few men came.

  Yin had continued going to see Miss Able for tutoring, including manners, dress and such. She admired and respected, even loved Miss Able. But Miss Able could not get her to come back to school full-time. Yin had decided she was going to find a man to take care of her so school would not be necessary. A man to settle down with. A man of means, so she could be like the ladies she admired so much.

  When Yin thought of it, she was ashamed she had never told Miss Able about the gold and had let the good woman beg for her, but her shame didn’t make her any more honest. She thought of God and His suggestions hardly at all. So she cashed in most of her gold without Miss Abie’s help. With honest help like Miss Abie’s, she would have found out she had enough money to buy a house, a home and all she needed in it. She was cheated, of course. With the money, she bought a wardrobe she thought was equal to the ladies she had envied, to find and attract a man who could give her a home.

  During her search for the man of substance, she was used by more than a few. She kept running into men in her same circumstances looking for a woman of substance. If they took her home to an apartment with rich, rented furniture and appointments, she “just knew” this was it! Well, it wasn’t. She gave her virginity, her lovely fresh self, to a liar. A thief. When he left, she had just what they leave you with: a puff of sweetly scented air, dirty sheets, and nothing. Some don’t even leave sweetly scented air. She behaved slavishly toward men in her eagerness to please. Now, you know, most human beings seem to value you less when you make them more important than you are. She was left often and always. She was pretty … but, she was not rich, not even wealthy. And pretty won’t buy anything … unless …

  The gentlemen she yearned for, she was not well-bred enough for. Those who might have wanted her sincerely, were not well-bred enough for her and had no means. In seeking places to meet gentlemen (ladies could not go everywhere) she ran into her share of pimps and gamblers. One pimp of high personal standards for himself (he had none for his women) did indeed steal her heart for awhile. She forgot her plans for a man of means and the “good” life. She was in such need of love by that time, she accepted a substitute, as people will. One she had to work for. He also had other women. Women he treated better. White women. He was white and he w
as one of those who knew she was not. In time she began to feel insecure, inferior, as, of course, he made her feel. Yinyang found herself in the arms of other men more than she was in the arms of the man she thought she loved. It was for money. Money for him, the man she thought she loved. At his request.

  When she thought of God, she frowned and liked Him even less because of what her life was. Yin blamed God even though these were her own choices. To pray was now stupid to her. To pray made her more lonely. Her life went on this way for a couple of long, barren, sad years.

  One morning Yin woke up used, hung over from liquor, smelling of smoke and Lord knows who. Her fine dress spotted with the waste of a stranger’s seed. The stale liquor fumes made her think of her mother. Her soiled dress made her think of her losing dreams. She thought of the lovely, tastefully dressed ladies with the lively eyes in the coffee shop. Surely they did not live like this. She thought of Miss Able, the only KIND person she had met. She started to cry when she thought of Josephus Josephus, Pajo.

  Suddenly the man came from another room, frowning, “Here, here! What’s this now? Crying!? Are you trying to say I cheated you? Get out of here! Go, now, go! I must have all this mess cleaned out of here anyway! Take your money and go! Tears!? What are you trying to pull? Not another cent are you getting!” He pulled her roughly up. “I’ve been around some. You can’t pull that one on me!” He pushed her toward the door. “Where’s your wrap? Ahh! Here!” He almost threw it to her. “You’re mighty young to have learned so much, so soon! Bad, all bad!” Then she was out the door. As it slammed she heard him muttering, “Trash. All trash. Not near worth my $20 gold piece!”

  Yin, still crying, snot trailing down her reddened nose, eyes bleary as she reached frantically into her pockets for the gold piece. Twenty dollars!? She was used to handling smaller money, paper, different metals. Her gold coins had been cashed in and, at that time, she had been given the bundles of cash without division of value per coin. Her youth and inexperience had made her gullible, trusting. Just right to be used in the devious, bustling city. But she knew it now. And she was supposed to hand this over to her Man since he took care of the rent for her tiny room with cooking privileges in a very questionable area of town. Yin cried even harder.