by Paul Beatty
Uncle Toliver puffed at his pipe. "Dat Maine cotton is uh killah as de younguns say."
"You ain't just sayin' it," I said.
Somebody shook me in the middle of the night an' I thought the joint was on fire an' jumped up and run outside. By the time I find they was gettin' up for breakfast all the breakfast gone but a spoon of grits. An' the next thing I know there we are out in the cotton patch, darker'n me.
But warn't nobody sayin' nothin' that early in the day. Big cat on the right of me called Thousand Pound Red. 'Nother'n on the left called Long Row Willie. Cats shaped up like Jack Johnson. I hitched up the strap over my shoulder like I seen them do an' threw the long sack out behind me.
"Well, we're off said the rabbit to the snails," I chirped jolly-like, rollin' up the bottoms of my drapes.
An' I warn't lyin' neither. When I looked up them cats was gone. Let me tell you, them cats was grabbin' that cotton so fast you couldn't see the motion of their arms. I looked 'round an' seen all the other cats in the patch watchin' me.
"W'y these cats call themselves racin'," I said to myself. "W'y I'll pick these cats blind deaf an' cripple."
I hauled off and started workin' my arms an' grabbed at the first cotton I saw. Somp'n jumped out an' bit me on the finger an' I jumped six feet. Thought sure I was snake bit. When I found out it was just the sharp point of the cotton boll I felt like a plugged slug. Next time I snuck up on it, got aholt and heaved. Didn't stop fallin' 'til I was flat on my back. Then I got mad. I 'gan grabbin' that cotton with both hands.
In 'bout an hour looked like I'd been in the rain. Hands ain't never been so bruised, look like every bolls musta bit 'em. When I tried to straighten up, got more cramps than Uncle Saul. Looked at my bag. The mouth was full but when I shook it the cotton disappeared. Then I thought 'bout the money; forty bucks a day, maybe fifty since I'd done begun in the middle of the night. Money'll make a man eat kine pepper. I started off again.
By the time I got halfway through my row I couldn't hear nobody. I raised my neck and skinned my glims. Warn't nobody in the whole patch but a man at the end of my row. Thought the rest of them cats musta gone for water so I 'cided to hurry up an' finish my row while they was gone an' be ahead of 'em.
I'd gone ten yards through the weeds pickin' thistledown from dried weeds 'fore it come to me I was at the end of my row.
"Whew!" I blew an' wiped the sweat out my eyes. An' then I seen the walkin' boss. "Howma doin', poppa," I crowed. "Didn't quit when them other cats did; thought I'd knock out my row 'fore I went for a drink."
"You did?" He sounded kinda funny, but I didn't think nothing of it.
"That's my story, Mister Glory; never get my Clipper stoppin' every few minutes for a drink." I shifted my weight an' got groovy. "I ain't like a lotta cats what swear they won't hit a lick at a snake then slip up here an' cop this slave sayin' the goin' east an' come back all lush. I don't care who knows I'm slavin' long as I get my proper layers. Now take when this icky, George Brown, sprung this jive; I got a piece a slave in a pool room and figure I'm settin' solid—"
"This ain't no pool room and the others ain't gone for no water," the man cut in. "They finished out their rows and went over the hump."
"Well, run into me!" I said. "Finished!" But I couldn't see how them cats got finished that quick. "Maybe they didn't have as much to pick as me," I pointed out.
The man stood there lookin' at me an' not sayin' a mumblin' word. Made me nervous just astandin' there. I picked up my sack an' sorta sashayed off. "Which way they go, man?"
"Come back here, you!" he yelled.
"All right, I can hear you, man," I muttered.
"Take a look at that row." He pointed at the row I'd just finished.
I looked. It was white as rice. "Well look at that jive!" I said. "What's that stuff, man?"
"It's cotton," he said. "You know what cotton is, don't you? You heard of it somewhere, ain't you?"
I stepped over an' looked down the other rows. They were bare as Mama Hubbard's cubbard. I came back an' looked at my row again. "Say, man, where did all that jive come from?" I wanted to know.
"It grew," he said.
"You mean since I picked it? You kiddin' man?"
He didn't say nothin'.
"Well then how come it grew on my row an' didn't grow nowhere else?" I pressed him.
He leaned toward me an' put his chops in my face, then he bellowed, "Pick it! You hear me, pick it! Don't stand there looking at me, you—you grasshopper! Pick it! And pick every boll!"
I got out that man's way. "Well all root," I said quickly. "You don't have to do no Joe Louis."
That's where I learned 'bout cotton; I found out what it was all 'bout, you hear me. I shook them stalks down like the F.B.I, shakin' down a slacker. I beat them bolls to a solid pulp. As I dragged that heavy sack I thought, Lord, this cotton must weight a ton—a halfa ton anyway. But when I looked at the sack, didn't look like nothin' was in it. Just a lil old knot at the bottom. Lord, cotton sure is heavy, I thought.
Then it come to me all of a sudden I must be bio win' my lid. Here I is gettin' paid by the pound and beefin' 'cause the stuff is heavy. The more it weigh the more I earn. Couldn't get too heavy. I knowed I'd done picked a thousand pounds if'n I'd picked a ounce. At that rate I could pick at least four thousand 'fore sundown. Maybe five! Fifty flags—in the bag! "Club Alabam, here to you I scram," I rhymed just to pass the time. Them cotton bolls turned into gin fizzes.
At the end of the row I straightened up an' looked into the eyes of the man. "Fifty flags a day would be solid kicks, please believe me," I said. "I could knock me that Clipper an' live on Lennox Avenue." I sat down on my thousand pounds of cotton an' relaxed. "There I was last Friday, just dropped a trey of balls to Thirty NoCount, an' it seemed like I could smell salty pork fryin'. Man, it sure smelt good."
"Turn around," the man said.
I screwed 'round, thinkin' he was gonna tell me what a good job I done.
"Look down that row."
I looked. That was some row. Beat as Mussolini. Limp asjoe Limpy. Leaves stripped from stalks. Stalks tromped 'round and 'round. Andjust as many bolls of cotton as when Ifirst got started. I got mad then sure 'nough. "Lookahere, man," I snarled. "You goin' 'long behind me fillin' up them bolls?"
The man rubbed his hand over his face. He pulled a weed an' bit off the root. Then he blew on the button of his sleeve an' polished it on his shirt. He laughed like a crazy man. "Ice cream and fried salt pork shore would taste good riding down Lennox Avenue in a Clipper. Look, shorty, it's noon. Twelve o'clock. F'stay? Ice cream—" He shook himself. "Listen, go weigh in and go eat. Eat all the fried ice cream and salty clipper you can stand. Then come back and pick this row clean if it takes you all week."
"Well all root, man," I said. "Don't get on your elbows."
I dragged my sack to the scales. Them other cats stopped to watch. I waved at them, then threw my sack on the scales. I stood back. "What does she scan, Charlie Chan?"
"Fifty-five!" the weigher called.
"Fifty-five," I said. "Don't gimme no jive." I started toward the shanty walkin' on air. Fifty-five smackeroos an' the day just half gone. Then I heard somebody laugh. I stopped, batted my eyes. I wheeled 'round.
"Fifty-five!" I shouted. "Fifty-five what?"
"Pounds," the weigher said.
I started to assault the man. But first I jumped for the scales. "Lemme see this thing," I snarled.
The weigher got out my way. I weighed the cotton myself. It weighed fifty-five pounds. I swallowed. I went over an' sat down. It was all I could do to keep from cryin'. Central Avenue had never seemed so far away. Right then and there I got suspicious of that icky, George Brown. Then I got mad at my queen. I couldn't wait to get back to L.A. to tell her what a lain she was. I could see my queen on this George Brown. My queen ain't so bright but when she gets mad look out.
When them cats went in for dinner I found the man an' said, "I'm quittin'."
; "Quit then," he said.
"I is," I said. "Gimme my pay."
"You ain't got none coming," he said.
I couldn't whip the man, he was big as Turkey Thompson. An' I couldn't cut him 'cause I didn't have no knife. So I found Poke Chops an' said, "I wanna send a tellygraph to my queen in L.A."
"Go 'head an' send it den," he said.
"I want you to go in town an' send it for me," I said.
He said, "Yassuh. Cost yuh two bucks."
"I ain't got no scratch," I pointed out. "That's what I wanna get." "'Tis?" he said. "Dass too bad."
All I could do was go back out and look them bolls in the face. At sundown I staggered in, beat as Mama Rainey. I didn't even argue with the weigher when he weighed my thirty-five pounds. Then I got left for scoff. Old Chops yelled, "Cum 'n git it!" and nine cats run right over me.
After supper I was gonna wash my face but when I seen my conk was ruint an' my hair was standin' on end like burnt grass I just well in the bed. There I lay wringin' and twistin'. Dreamt I was jitterbuggin' with a cotton boll. But that boll was some ickeroo 'cause it was doin' some steps I ain't never seen an' I'm a 'gator from way back.
Next day I found myself with a row twixt two old men. Been demoted. But I figured surely I could beat them old cats. One was amoanin': "Cotton is tall, cotton is shawt, Lawd, Lawd, cotton is tall, cotton is shawt. . . How y'all comin' dare, son? . . . Lawd, Lawd, cotton is tall, cotton is shawt . . . " The other'n awailin': "Ah'm gonna pick heah, pick heah afew days longah, 'n den go home. Lawd, Lawd, 'n den go home . . ."
Singin' them down home songs. I knew I could beat them old cats. But pretty soon they left me. When I come to the end of my row an' seen the man I just turned 'round and started back. Warn't no need 'f arguin'.
All next day I picked twixt them ancient cats. An' they left me at the post. I caught myself singing: "Cotton is tall, cotton is shawt" an' when I seen the man at the end of my row I changed it to: "Cotton is where you find it."
That night I got a letter from my fine queen in L.A. I felt just like hollerin' like a mountain Jack. Here I is wringin' an' twistin' like a solid fool, I told myself, an' I got a fine queen waitin' for me to come back to her everlovin' heart. A good soft slave in the pool room. An' some scratch stashed away. What is I got to worry 'bout.
Then I read the letter.
"Dear High C daddy mine:
"I know you is up there making all that money and ain't hardly thinking none about poor little me I bet but just the same I is your sweet little sugar pie and you better not forget to mail me your check Saturday. But don't think I is jealous cause I aint. I hates a jealous woman worsen anything I know of. You just go head and have your fun and I will go head and have mine.
"I promised him I wouldn' say nothing to you 'bout him but he just stay on my mind. Didn you think he was awful sweet the way he thought bout me wanting some silver foxes. Mr Brown I mean. And it was so nice of him getting you that fine job where you can improve your health and keep out the army at the same time. And then you can make all that money.
"He been awful nice to me since you been gone. I just dont know rightly how to thank him. He been taking care of everything for you so nice. He wont let me worry none at all you being away up there mong all those fine fellows and me being here all by my lonely self. He say you must be gained five pounds already cause you getting plenty fresh air and exercise and is eating and sleeping regular. He say I the one what need taking care of (aint he cute). He been taking me out to keep me from getting so lonesome and when I get after him bout spending all his time with me he say dont I to worry none cause youd want me to have a little fun too (smile). Here he come now so I wont take up no more of your time.
"I know this will be a happy surprise hearing from me this way when I dont even write my own folks in Texas.
"xxxxxxxx them is kisses.
"Your everloving sugar pie,
"Beulah
"P.S. Georgie say for me to send you his love (smile) and to tell you not to make all the money save him some."
There I was splittin' my sides, rollin' on the ground, laffin' myself to death I'se so happy. Havin' my fun. Makin' plenty money, just too much money. With tears in my eyes as big as dill pickles. I couldn't hardly wait to get my pay. Just wait 'til I roll into L.A. an' tell her how much fun I been havin'.
Then come Sat'day night. There we was all gathered in the shanty an' the man callin' names. When he call mine everybody got quiet but I didn't think nothin' of it. I went up an' said, "Well, that's a good deal. Just presh the flesh with the cesh."
But the man give my money to old Chops an' Chops start to figurin'. "Now lemme see, y'all owes me thirteen dollahs. Uh dollah fuh haulin' yuh from de depo. Nine dollahs fuh board countin' suppah. Three dollahs fuh sleepin'." He counted the money. He counted it again. "Is dis all dat boy is earned?" he ast the man.
The man said, "That's all."
"Does y'all mean tuh say dat dis w'ut y'all give George Brown twenty-five dollahs fuh sendin' up heah fuh help?"
The man rubbed his chin. "We got to take the bad ones with the good ones. George has sent us some mighty good boys."
My eyes bucked out like skinned bananas. Sellin' me like a slave! Slicin' me off both ends. Wait 'til my queen hears 'bout this, I thought. Then I yelled at Chops, "Gimme my scratch! I gotta throat to cut!"
Chops put his fists on his hips and looked at me. "W't is y'all reachin' fuh?" he ast. "Now jes tell me, w'ut is y'all reachin' fuh?"
"Lookahere men—" I began.
But he cut me off. "Wharis mah nine dollahs? All y'all is got heah is three dollahs 'n ninety-nine cents."
"Say don't play no games, Jesse James," I snarled. "If'n I ain't got no more dough 'n that—"
But 'fore I could get through he'd done grabbed me by the pants an' heaved me out the door. "An' doan y'all come back t' y'all gits mah nine dollahs t'gethah," he shouted.
I knew right then and there is where I shoulda fit. But a man with all on his mind what I had on mine just don't feel like fightin'. All he fell like doin' is lyin' down an' grievin'. But he gotta have some place to lay an' all I got is the hard, cold ground.
A old cat took pity on me an' give me some writin' paper an' I writ my queen an' he say he take it in to church with him next day an' get the preacher to mail it. That night an' the next I slept on the ground. Some other old cats brung me some grub from the table or I'da starved.
Come Monday I found myself 'mongst the old queens an' chillun. They men work in the mill and they pick a lil now an' then. I know I'da beat them six year olds if'n I hadn't got so stiffened sleepin' on the ground. But I couldn't even stand up straight no more. I had to crawl down the row an' tree the cotton like a cotton dog. I was beat, please believe me. But I warn't worried none. I'd got word to my queen an' looked any minute to get a money tellgraph.
'Stead I got letter come Wednesday. Couldn't hardly wait to open it.
"High C:
"I is as mad as mad can be. I been setting here waiting for your check and all I get is a letter from somebody signing your name and writing in your handwriting to send them some money and talking all bad bout that nice man Mr Brown. You better tell those hustlers up there that I aint nobodys lain.
"Georgie say he cant understand it you must of got paid Saturday. If you think I is the kind of girl you can hold out on you better get your thinking cap on cause aint no man going to hold out on this fine queen.
"Your mad sugar pie,
"Beulah
"P.S. George bought a Clipper yesterday. We been driving up and down the Avenue. I been hoping you hurry up and come on home and buy me one just like isn."
"Lord, what is I done?" I moaned. "If'n I done somep'n I don't know of please forgive me, Lord. I'd forgive you if you was in my shape."
The first thing I did was found that old cat an' got some more writin' paper. I had to gat that queen straight.
"Dear Sugar pie:
"You doesn understand. I aint made
dollar the first. Cotton aint what you think. Ifn you got any cotton dresses burn em. I is stranded without funds. Does you understand that. Aint got one white quarter not even a blip. That was me writing in my handwriting. George Brown is a lowdown dog. I is cold and hungry. Aint got no place to stay. When I get back I going to carve out his heart. Ifn you ever loved your everloving papa send me ten bucks (dollars) by tellgraph.
"Lots of love and kisses. I cant hardly wait.
"Your stranded papa
"High C"
Come Friday I ain't got no tellygram. Come Sat'day I ain't got none neither. The man say I earned five dollars an' eighty-three cents an' Chops kept that. Come Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, I ain't got word one.
I was desperate, so he'p me. I said to myself, I gotta beat this rap, more way to skin a cat than grabbing to his tail. So I got to thinkin'.
At night after everybody weighed in an' the weigher left, lots of them cats went back to the field and picked some more cotton so they'd have a head start next day. They kept it in their bags overnight. But them cats slept on them bags for pillows.
Well I figured a cat what done picked all day an' then pick half the night just got to sleep sound. So Thursday night I slipped into the shanty after everybody gone to sleep an' stole them cats' cotton. Warn't hard, I just lifted their heads, tuk out their bags an' emptied 'em into mine an' put the empty bags back. Next day at noon I weighed in three hundred pounds.
Ain't got no word that night. But I got somep'n else. When I slipped into the shanty an' lifted one of them cats head he rolled over an' grabbed me. Them other cats jumped up an' I got the worse beatin' I ever got.
Come Sat'day I couldn't walk attall. Old Chops taken pity on me an' let me come back to my bunk. There I lay amoanin' an' agroanin' when the letter come. It was a big fat letter an' I figured it sure must be filled with bills. But when I opened it all dropped out was 'nother letter. I didn't look at it then, I read hers'n first.
"High C:
"I believe now its been you writing me all these funny letters in your handwriting. So thats the kind of fellow you turned out to be. Aint man enough to come out in the open got to make out like you broke. You the kind of a man let a little money go to his head. But that dont worry me none cause I done put you down first.