Descendants of Hagar

by Nik Nicholson

  Coley too satisfied on winning this little debate, fore it even get started, to notice something else might be going on.

  “Iain saying what’s a sin and what ain’t. I just think, if you ain’t got no man riding with you, you ought to stay in.”

  “Maybe we will find ourselves some nice men to ride with us,” Coley tease, looking to see how I’m gone react to what she saying.

  I’m kinda surprised by how free she speaking, even in jest. Especially since she so concerned bout how she seen, and yet she making ‘aself sound a little loose. Still I act like she ain saying nothing at all.

  “Well.” He look at me for a long time. “Maybe it don’t make you no difference one way or the other. Maybe you’ll be alright.”

  “What’s that spose to mean?” I’m staring back, feeling him out.

  “Nothing, I just wish yall wouldn’t do this. I’m gone be in my house tonight and I suggest you do the same.” Bowing out, he put his hat back on and frown, like he defeated. “Good night, ladies.”

  Chapter Forty-Three

  JUKE JOINT

  Seeing as how late it is when we start off down the road to Lucius place, I’m glad for my new automobile. Iain got to worry bout putting no horses away, tying ’em up or watering and feedin nem in the middle of the night. All I got to do is go where I’m going, and I do feel more protected inside my auto, too.

  Then the headlights light the way. It woulda been too dark out here for horseback riding. I agree it wouldn’t of been no good idea, for just me and Coley to be out here by ourselves on no horse going this far out.

  “You look like you’re going to apply for work on somebody’s farm,” Coley say laughing. “You should have let me help you pick something to wear.”

  “I didn’t even want to wear this dress.” I look at ‘a so serious it stop ‘a from laughing. Ion care, I wont to be comfortable. I got my hair braided, pulled back and wrapped in a bun. I’m wearing a hat. I don’t know what to wear to one of these things or what to expect.

  For it not to be no electricity out here, Uncle Lucius place sho is bright. Soon as we start getting close, I can see all the light through neat rows of crops. The closer we get the more you feel it, the better you see, and the better you hear it.

  A piano playing low, there’s drumming, people talking and laughing. Seem like the cabin full of spirits dancing the way the candles flickering. They spread round the yard, making the whole ground look like a full moon buried underneath the house.

  I’m glad when I pull up, and all the men just wearing good shirts and pressed pants without suit jackets or ties, nothing too fancy. Ion feel out of place, but I do take my hat off and leave it in the auto. This my first time seeing this many people dressed up ain’t in church.

  When they see me and Coley they watch us but don’t stop what they doing. Some men on the porch playing cards. I can smell the barbeque on the grill, and there is a big metal pot spose to be used for laundry, over an open fire, where they frying fish.

  I can smell the scent of alcohol, aftershave, perfume and barbeque. The barbeque smell the best. I already ate but I could eat barbeque any time. I get me and Coley a plate for 10 cents each. We eat baked beans, ribs, greens, cornbread and macaroni. Iain never ate out really, not this good and sho not this late.

  When we walk up on the porch, Coley say, “Good evening, gentlemen.”

  “Good evening to you, ladies,” the men say.

  I don’t even see no women up front.

  “And good evening, gentle lady,” one man say, then him and another man start laughing, elbowing each other.

  Then I recognize my brother Zay sitting with our other brother Jeremiah. I just stare at ’em. They know I don’t like when they call me a man in front of other folks.

  “Shut up,” I say, going to sit in they seats so I can eat.

  Without a word they stand. Zay even act like a usher for Coley, holding his hand out to his bench.

  “Okay, yah wife bet not see you putting on,” I warn ’im.

  Zay jump around like he expecting she might hear me. Then the whole porch laugh, and I remember how Zion the kind of place where no words are missed. Then Coley new, and they wanting to hear whatever she got to say.

  “HEY!”

  I hear a man shout from inside, then he come out to the porch.

  Coley put ‘a plate down and go in for a hug. When they let go of each other it’s, Hank. He got a suit jacket on, and enough aftershave for all the men on the porch. Him touching Coley don’t make me mad as it use to, seeing as how he sweet on Eudora, Uncle Lucius daughter.

  “We told Reverend Patrick you were gone,” Coley tell ’im poking ’im in the side. Now when I see them play, it kind of make me think of how me and my brothers might of been if we was raised different. Coley treat Hank like a little brother.

  “I had to hear Eudora sing,” Hank say and smile, then nod at me. Then he start looking around for Eudora, pass me and through Coley.

  People’s laughing and the piano playing right along with all the talking come through the windows. The women wearing they good boots. Everybody inside mostly dancing to the music. All they heavy footing making a rhythm of its own, kinda remind me of church.

  I don’t know how long Hank looking around, tapping his foot and trying to pretend like he ain looking for nobody, when we hear Eudora belch a note over everything going on.

  As soon as Eudora sing, I know why Hank came back. She sing that song like ‘a life depend on it. She feeling it too, and she making you feel it.

  Eudora a handsome girl. Then she smile big as she sings out, like the sound of ‘a own voice soothing ‘a, freeing ‘a. It’s some song bout good cookin and good lovin. It’s so good it make you laugh a little, like you do in church when the word hit a nerve.

  Then Iain never heard nothing other than a church song. This the first time I seen a whole room get quiet for anything other than the word. I hate Iain come out here sooner. I promise myself this ain’t gone be the last time I hear me some singing.

  Eudora voice so strong, people stop moving, speaking and start to move inside. All the noise get quiet and everybody looking at ‘a. Even I go in and stand against the wall, behind old man Frankie at the piano. I watch how he follow ‘a voice.

  Mr. Frankie this old man they say chose the devil. They say he use to play for the church, but the old reverend told him he couldn’t serve two masters. They say, he sat for a while at the piano thinking, then he politely covered the keys, got up and walked out. They say he ain never go back to church while that Reverend ran Zion Baptist Church.

  Now there’s a different man that play the piano in church, but he cain’t play nothing like Mr. Frankie. People say Mr. Frankie brought the holy ghost with him every Sunday.

  I learned to play the piano at somebody’s house. Then every now and then Miemay would have Sister Spiller teach me some church songs. They was slow and sad. I couldn’t hardly keep my mind on the keys. Even then I was reading music. Iain never just played no song.

  Reading music ain’t but one thing, but what Mr. Frankie can do is a skill. He can hear a sound and make it. He can hear a sound and dance with it on the piano. I want to learn to make my piano dance.

  Iain never seen nobody play the piano like Mr. Frankie. Eudora tell him with ‘a hands what to do. Then she start singing, and he just follow her. Iain never been able to play by ear, and Iain never had the chance to play with nobody else. I use to want to play in church but that day ain never come.

  I’m watching the women backing Eudora up hum, and lead Mr. Frankie into another song. They teach him the song a bit before they get going. Then Mr. Frankie follow close to they voice. He know just what to do. Mr. Frankie could play with the best of ’em.

  Soon as Mr. Frankie set the rhythm the band come in; blowing that jug, picking that fiddle, spooning that board, plucking the tub, playing the banjo, and breathing in that harmonica. When these boys get to going it’s something to see. Oooh, I hate I been go
ing this long and ain’t never been over here.

  I don’t know how long I’m standing there when Mr. Frankie turn around and look at me, smiling, like he bout to say something. He keep looking back. When Eudora take a break, he say, “Don’t chu know how to play the piana, too?”

  “Nothing like what you doing. I just do it by reading music, and it’s been a while.”

  “Come on over here and sit down next to me.” Mr. Frankie smile, scooting over and leaving me space on the bench.

  Soon as I sit down, I smell the snuff he chewing.

  “I’m gone play this then you hit that right there.” He presses on a few keys to show me. Then he do play a little and wait for me to play my part. Then we go back and forth til we speed up.

  After we playing a little while, I start to feel the music in my soul. People start to cheer us on. I start to feel where I need to go next on my side, and it make me feel special to have the whole room dancing to our music.

  A commotion get started. People start shouting, “That’s their automobile!” People moving round, trying to get a look out the windows, saying, “It’s her! It’s her!”

  I stand to get a good look at ‘a. It’s done got too dark for that.

  All these men come in and they bring they own instruments, different from what they using round here. Me and Mr. Frankie moving this way and that way, making room for them to set up.

  Soon as they set up, they introduce Ma and Pa Rainey. Ma Rainey belt out this note so loud, seem like she singing for today and tomorrow.

  “I’ve never seen a woman hold a room’s attention like she does,” Coley whisper, leaning in my ear. “And she so black.” She smile like she proud of ‘a own blackness.

  Ma Rainey hair nappy, too, braided smaller and tighter to ‘a scalp. She looking real sharp, in ‘a shiny gold dress. Iain never seen a dress like what she wearing.

  I’m anchored there thinking, bout what she saying and how she moving. The songs she singing something else. They bout her and her man. She saying things make me blush, but the other women in the room seem to be use to this kind of singing.

  Eudora what’n too far off with what she was singing before Ma got here.

  Then Bessie Smith get to singing and speaking to the whole jug joint, like she know you want to see what she doing, and know what she bout.

  The room stomp and tap. Some folks get up and dance together off on the side. I want to take Coley over there and have us some fun learning them steps. I want to hold ‘a hand here. The men start inching round us, and I’m starting to feel that anger pushing itself up in me.

  “Don’t you want to dance?” Coley put ‘a hand in mine. “Some of the other women are dancing together.”

  Soon as Coley say that some men come up behind them women, and start dancing, too.

  “I don’t wont no man holding me close.” I look at ‘a in a way make ‘a uncomfortable. Then she start looking round like everybody can hear what I’m saying.

  After Bessie Smith finish ‘a first set, she give Mr. Frankie some sheet music, to thank ’im for allowing her piano player to use his piano.

  He look back at me smiling all big and pleased, and say, “You think you could help me learn to read this?”

  Me and Mr. Frankie stay close by each other, watching Bessie Smith’s man play the piano. Then Mr. Frankie tell me to read him the names of the songs on the music she done gave him. I do, then I tell him that in order for him to learn how to read music, he gone have to know how to read, too.

  Bessie Smith’s man takes a break, then me and Mr. Frankie get back behind the piano to keep the music going. When I play the notes off the sheets, Mr. Frankie look at me with the same amazement I been watching him with all night. It make me laugh so hard, and I get so excited I stop worrying bout Coley and relax.

  “I’m gone make you some letters and bring ’em to you, so you could be practicing sounds,” I tell ’im excited I can teach him anything, and hoping he’ll teach me how to play piano like him.

  Mr. Frankie sit up stiff, and look like he don’t know me or what I’m talking bout.

  “What letters you gone be practicing, Mr. Frankie?” one of the men say and laugh, full of that oil.

  I realize what I done done, but I cain’t take it back. It don’t occur to me I shouldn’t say nothing here. I’m thinking bout what Mr. Frankie say bout getting between the jug blowing, and tub plucking, but not out running the fiddle or guitar. I’m so excited about how much he done taught me, in just this little time, I forget where I’m at. Outside of Coley, I could live for playing the piano. The words already gone, out there, when the other men start to laugh and jank Mr. Frankie.

  I feel guilty, different. I think about how so many folks stop going to school soon as they was old enough to be a full hand. I think about how folks don’t never think it’s nothing to school, and it’s more important to know how to plow the fields.

  I use to be shame, going to school big as I was. All the other girls were getting married, or helping they mamas and family at home.

  Miemay use to say, “Gone to school and learn much as you can. You gone need to know everything they teaching.”

  My last years in school I was helping Mr. Bailey, this man teacher. Women weren’t teaching less they were my age and unmarried. I helped other kids learn more than I was being taught anything. I got them lessons so good in math, I still can do most problems in my head folks need paper for. I’m always breaking things down and hearing it for what it is. Reading get you to doing that, thinking about things. I’m always thinking.

  I remember asking Miemay why she don’t want me to stay home, in the fields. She said something like, “Them fields gone always be there, but school was just for a time. I what’n like other women, I needed to learn to read and think. Reading teach you to think.”

  Miemay said that’s why whites ain’t never wont blacks reading cause they didn’t wont them to know nothing. Then right after slavery every nigga young enough wanted to know how to read. But the old people, the slaves just wanted land. They didn’t understand what was going on and was always getting cheated, still getting cheated.

  “Don’t other women need to know how to think, too,” I asked Miemay after Jenny had teased me so, about going up til I was 18. I’m one of the few girls who graduated, over the years.

  “Nah,” she’d said, looking off into the fields and then at the sky kinda sad. “They already got somebody else thinking for ’em. You need to have a mind of yo own.”

  Mr. Bailey got tired of all the hangings and started to fear his neck would end up in a noose. After that, they couldn’t keep no teachers here. Prudence Beaumont use to help Mr. Bailey out, too, over the years, cause she had so many children, and then she became the teacher.

  “Aye Eee I Oh You nigga,” another man sing behind Mr. Frankie’s head. It’s hard to believe they this disrespectful considering their ages. Then again, that jug oil might make a man say anything.

  “He’s learning to read, when was the last time yall learned something?” I challenge firmly, looking at them.

  “We listening to this old fool, and he don’t even know much as we know bout thangs,” another one of them say.

  “You be lucky enough to live this long, you’ll find I knowed tons of thangs you ain’t know, son,” Mr. Frankie pout more than defend himself.

  “What you gone do with reading anyhow? You cain’t read them fields.” They all bust out laughing like they the funniest thing ever.

  “You ready?” I sit down next to Mr. Frankie.

  He spin around putting his legs under the piano. He silent, and hurt.

  “I’m sorry,” I whisper.

  “Aincho fault people don’t never want no change. My own wife asked me why I was learning letters one time. She said we was too old to change, or to worry bout reading. I ain’t looked at ’em since.

  “That’s why I like music, it’s always changing, and depending on who the person singing, you always got to learn something n
ew. I like to try different things. Be nice to go on the road or something like Bessie Smith and Ma Rainey. Be nice to see some different things. I been in Zion all my life. Shoot, I was here before Zion was here.”

  “That’s a long time.” We both laugh, then I ask, “What you waiting for?”

  “I could ask you the same thang. Ain’t nothing here for no young girl. You ain’t got no youngins or no man to look after. You need to take the first thang out of here smoking. See what else going on in the world.

  “I always wanted to go up to Atlanta, or you know, maybe St. Louis. I hear it be better work there, and we doing good now but the boll weevil killing us. I don’t know what we gone do next year if-”

  Bang! Bang!

  Soon as me and Mr. Frankie hear them rifle shots, we both duck. Then I shoot up from behind the piano looking for Coley.

  Mr. Frankie snatch me back down and under the piano. “You know what they’ll do to a gull like you?”

  “Coley!” I call, snatching away from him. I study the people running up steps. Then somebody run straight into the back screen door, BUM and on into the fields.

  “Hey hey! Nigger, you better quit running,” somebody call after him.

  They shooting, riding round the house.

  Feel like the walls ain’t even there, and we all just sitting ducks in the middle of the woods. I watch the Klansman aiming his rifle at the man’s back, then another look me right in my face. I run and slam the back door shut, and lock it. Then hurry up and get out the way expecting him to shoot through it.

  “Every nigger in there better come on out that God-damn house, or we gone burn it to the ground!”

  “Coley!”

  Lit crosses burning bright through the windows. I hear their torch flames crackling outside. We surrounded, and it’s a lot of ’em. Sounds like soft thunder, way the wind whipping through they Klan robes while they riding round.

  Everything silent cept for they horses, the hooves moving round outside, like too many heartbeats to be in one chest. Every door I open, the rooms lit by them, outside in they white robes and pointy hats.