Catfish Alley (30 page)

Just as Gran is about to respond, there's a knock on
the door and Gran's two best friends, Miss Adelle and Miss Grace, arrive in a
commotion of hugs and old-lady kisses. These two women have always been like
two doting great-aunts to me. For a moment I find myself wondering if I'll end
up an old maid like them. Maybe that wouldn't be so bad. They're happy, right?

I suddenly have an image of myself as an old woman
sitting around a card table with a bunch of other black women the same day
every week to play the same card game at the same time of day, just as these
three are about to do. I want to run screaming from the room and jump on the
first plane back to Chicago and marry the first man I see when I get off the
plane!

Miss Adelle and Miss Grace are accompanied by a
well-dressed middle-aged white woman. She and the ladies are all smiles with
each other, like she's one of their old friends. Even Gran shakes her hand and
nods a welcoming response to her greeting. This strikes me as odd. I've never
known these ladies, especially Gran, to associate with Junior League types.
Miss Grace introduces her as Mrs. Roxanne Reeves, the woman who is responsible
for the development of the African-American tour. So, this is the person
stirring up Gran with ideas about the Queen City. I step over to shake her hand
when Miss Grace introduces me.

"Roxanne is going to join us for cards
today," says Miss Grace. Roxanne doesn't look too certain about that, if
you ask me. She's shaking her head.

"I really don't know about that. Maybe I'll just
watch for a while," she says, pulling some papers out of her bag.
"I've written up some information on the Queen City Hotel I was hoping to
go over with you, Mrs. Webster — and maybe with you, too, Billy?" She
looks hopefully at Gran and me. I can tell she's the kind of woman who doesn't
spend much time sitting around playing cards. I wonder if she ever takes off
those panty hose.

"Billy," Gran says, ignoring Roxanne's
request, "pull that card table out of the closet and set it up here in
front of my chair." I follow Gran's instructions, even though she really
didn't have to tell me. Anytime I've been here to visit on what happened to
include a Saturday afternoon, I've gotten roped into playing bid whist with
these ladies. They've been meeting every Saturday afternoon for as long as I
can remember. When I was a little girl, they took turns going to each other's
houses. Some of my best memories are the days they would come to Gran's house
across the street from the Queen City. She let me sit under the card table with
my dolls, listening to their chatter overhead. Since Gran moved into the
nursing home, they've made Pineview their regular meeting place.

I'm relieved to be out from under Gran's interrogation
about Daniel Mason, for now anyway. As I slide the old table out of the closet,
I'm feeling more relaxed. Miss Adelle is over by the sink starting a pot of
coffee and Miss Grace has Roxanne moving chairs. Miss Grace is taking the top
off of what I'm hoping is one of her buttermilk pound cakes and searching in
Gran's cabinet for paper plates.

I realize how much I'm enjoying myself. I have women
friends in Chicago — I've even tried to teach a couple of them to play bid
whist — but it's not the same as being surrounded by these nurturing old women.
I love listening to the stories they tell and the way they laugh and joke the
whole time they're playing. But today I'm wondering what they plan to do with
this Reeves woman. She's perched on one of the chairs, watching everyone, still
holding those papers in her hands. She looks more like the bridge type to me.

Roxanne turns to Gran. "So y'all play cards every
Saturday?" she asks, trying to make conversation.

"Yes, ma'am," Gran answers.

"Do you always play the same game?"

"Oh, yes," Gran says, and winks at Adelle,
who's come to sit near her. "Same game for almost sixty years now, and
Addie and Grade are still trying to beat me."

"Now, don't you listen to her," says Grace
from where she stands cutting cake. "Mat-tie Webster just forgets how
many times she loses."

"My daddy taught me when I was just a girl,"
Gran says. "Daddy was a Pullman porter and he learned it on the train.
Then I taught Addie —"

Miss Grace jumps in. "Then Addie taught me. But I
really perfected my skills" — Gran lets out a snort at this — "when I
was at Tougaloo College. We would play for hours—"

Miss Adelle interrupts. "And I perfected mine when
I was at Tuskegee in nursing school."

Gran laughs. "You educated girls ain't got nothing
on me. I can still whip both of you."

I sit back in my chair, watching and listening,
smelling the coffee brewing, my mouth watering at the thought of Miss Grace's
cake, feeling contented just to be here with them. I wonder if Daniel Mason
drinks coffee....

Grace

We've settled into our card game and I'm enjoying
myself. Mattie is in an unusually good mood, and I'm guessing it has to do with
her granddaughter, Billy, spending time with Brother Daniel. Whenever he's
brought up, I get a kick out of watching Billy try to hide her feelings about
him. I think she's sweet on him.

Roxanne doesn't want to play bid whist with us. Right
now, she seems content to watch us and ask questions every now and then. We're
between hands and decide to take a break and have some cake and coffee. Roxanne
reads the information she's written up about the Queen City to Mattie, and
Billy is telling us about Brother Daniel's plans.

"...
so he's planning to get the contractor out there to see it on Monday," she
says.

"Junior would be so proud to hear that the Queen
City will be on this tour," says Adelle.

I nod my head. "Yes, that's where he got his
start," I say, remembering what wonderful times we had there.

"Whatever happened to Junior?" Roxanne asks
carefully, as if she's afraid of what the answer will be.

Adelle and Mattie both look at me. Billy, who probably
hasn't heard this story, echoes the question. "Yes, Miss Grace, where did
Junior go when he left Clarksville?"

It occurs to me that before it's over with, everything
about those months in 1931 is going to come out. I probably should have known
this would happen when I started dragging up old stories, talking so personal
to Roxanne Reeves. Somehow I fooled myself into thinking we could just stick to
the pleasant stories related to the places I suggested for the tour, but I
reckon I was wrong. My thoughts turn again to that time in my life. Lord, that
was a hard year! I don't want to think about it on a nice day like this, when
we're having so much fun. But Roxanne and Billy are looking at me, waiting for
an answer.

"The last time I saw Junior, it was about this
time of year...."

November 1931

Grace

I finished the last of my chores and
Miss Crump doesn't have anything critical to say about my work today, which is
a miracle, so I leave the dining hall and run down the path through the cedar
trees and scoot in the back door of my dormitory. I need to check my mailbox
before I go back to my room to study.

Right after I arrived at Tougaloo, I
wrote to Zero at Alcorn State and Adelle at Tuskegee to tell them everything
that had happened. I've been exchanging letters with both of them every few
weeks. Zero is working hard at Alcorn and won't be leaving the campus to visit
Clarksville until things have had time to quiet down after all of that business
with Ray Tanner and Andy Benton. Adelle and I are planning to see each other
back in Clarksville during the holidays. I'm hoping for a letter from her today
saying that I can stay with her family over Christmas. I can't bear the thought
of going back to my little house behind Pecan Cottage yet. None of us has heard
anything from Junior.

I round the corner to the hallway
where our mail slots are, pulling off my kitchen hairnet, holding my bobby pins
tightly between my lips, and I stop dead in my tracks. My mouth falls open and
all of the hair pins hit the wood floor, sounding like rain falling around me.
Junior Jackson is standing by the mailboxes, leaning against the wall with his
hat in his hand. He's got on the same suit he was wearing the last time I saw
him, but as he turns toward me, I notice he's grown a mustache and he looks a
little tired around the eyes. For just a second we stand there frozen. He's
looking at me like he's not sure what to do and I'm still not believing it's
him I'm seeing.

"Hey there, Grade," he
says in that sweet low voice of his, and before I can think about it I'm
throwing myself into his arms, and he drops his hat as he picks me up and
twirls me around, holding me so tight I can't breathe. I'm already crying and
he's got his face buried in my neck. I can feel that scratchy little mustache
against my skin and I can smell the mixture of his cologne and cigarettes.

I'm suddenly aware of my
surroundings, although the hallway is still deserted. "Put me down,
Junior," I whisper.

He sets me down slowly and looks
like he's about to kiss me, but I turn my head and look around to see if
someone's coming. "What are you doing here?"

"You are one hard-to-find
woman, you know that?" he says.

His voice echoes through the hallway
and I put my finger to his lips to quiet him. "They don't let men in our
dormitory. How did you get past the front desk?" I happen to know that
Vidalia Swenson is on door duty tonight, and she gets an evil pleasure from the
authority that gives her. If one of us girls signs in even thirty seconds past
curfew, she runs the risk of being written up if Vidalia is in charge.

Junior grins in the devilish way he
always does and I feel my heart speed up. "I convinced that nice girl
named Vidalia Swenson to let me wait here for you."

My suspicion is that this is just
another testament to Junior's charm. "How'd you get her to do that?"
I ask.

Junior smiles and looks a little
sheepish. "I sort of let her believe that I'm your long-lost brother from
Alcorn State."

I shake my head, laughing.
"Junior Jackson, you always could get anything you wanted."

He reaches around my waist and pulls
me close. "I've missed you so much, Gracie. Let's go someplace where we
can talk." He lets me go and bends to pick up his hat.

I scoop up my bobby pins from the
floor and tuck my hairnet in my pocket, wishing I could look in a mirror and
check my hair, even put on a little lipstick, but there's no time for that now.
I slip my arm around Junior's as we walk circumspectly past Vidalia toward the
front doors of the dormitory.

"Why, Grace Clark," she
says in her syrupy Atlanta accent. "You didn't tell me you had such a
handsome big brother." She bats her eyes at Junior with a come-hither
look. I'm surprised at how territorial I instantly feel. I have to stop myself
from telling her to back off.

"Yes, isn't this a wonderful surprise
for me?" I say as I give Junior's arm a tug. I somehow think he's enjoying
this. "We're just going out on the grounds to take a walk and catch
up."

"You be sure and be in by
curfew, now." Vidalia calls to our backs as we step outside.

"Oh, don't you worry, Miss
Vidalia. I'll be sure to have her back on time. I can't have my sister falling
down on her school work," Junior says.

We both burst into laughter as the
door closes behind us. It's a cool fall evening and I let Junior pull me close,
feeling his warmth and aching for him to hold me and kiss me. I'm intensely
aware of how limited my time with him is. I glance down at my watch. It's
already six thirty and the freshman evening curfew is at eight o'clock on
weekdays. The sun is almost gone and the clouds are making the late-evening
light cast a luminous glow from the burnt orange leaves of the big oaks we're
walking under. I decide to take Junior to my favorite thinking spot. It's a
little place I've discovered under the pine trees down by the pond on the back
of the campus.

As we walk, we take turns telling
each other what's happened since August. Junior is full of stories about his
experiences with Mr. Armstrong's band, and I tell Junior about what happened
with Zero and how I came to be at Tougaloo so much sooner than I thought I
would be. We sit down side by side on a bed of pine needles near the pond as
Junior tells me about the places he's already seen while traveling with Mr.
Armstrong. The reason he's here tonight is because the band made a stop in
Jackson, and when he called home to talk to his parents, they told him he could
find me here. I feel a pang of sadness, realizing he's completely satisfied
with his new life.