Like One of the Family (15 page)

And I tell you, they got quiet when I laid down the law…. “Stop all this pussyfootin' pretense about ‘you can't understand'…. Right is right and wrong is wrong,
FREE AFRICA!
Then I turned and asked, “Now who don't understand that?”

… Well, maybe I did make a scene, Marge, but I'm sick and tired of folks pretendin' they don't know the score just so they can duck the issue, 'cause we all got to go when the wagon comes and it behooves each and every one of us to “put up or shut up” as the gambler said…. Sure, Marge, the truth is just pure beautiful!

M
ARGE
, I
WISH
I was a poet…. Now that's no cause for you to stop stringing the beans and lookin' at me like you was struck by lightnin'…. No, I don't wish it on account of I want to be famous, but I do wish it because sometimes there are poetry things that I see and I'd like to tell people about them in a poetry way; only I don't know how, and when I tell it, it's just a plain flat story.

Well, for an instance, you know my cousin Thelma stopped in town for a few days, and she stayed at a downtown hotel…. Yes, I dropped by to see her last night…. Now, Marge, when I walked up to the desk to get her room number, all of a sudden the folks in the lobby cleared a path on both sides of me and I was about to get real salty about their attitude when I chanced to look behind me and saw two old people walkin' up to the desk….

No, they were white, and you've never seen such a couple in your life—a man and his wife, and they must have been in their seventies. They were raggedy and kinda beat. The old lady wore men's shoes and trousers and an old battered raincoat and on her head a man's hat. From under the hat her white hair hung in curly wisps—and she was pretty….

Yes, mam, she was pretty and still she was seventy and bent and dragged her feet along instead of liftin' them. The man was dressed just as sorry as her and in his hand he carried a paper bag…. Marge, he was lookin' at her like every woman on earth dreams of bein' looked at, and her eyes were doin' the same thing back at him.

Honey, everyone was standin', just starin'. There was a giggle from some kid and one well-dressed woman looked like she was goin' to faint, but the old man walked up to the clerk with the old lady follerin' behind him and he said in a quavery voice, “We'd like a room for the night.”

Well, you could cut the silence with a knife. The clerk hemmed and hawed while they stood there lookin' back at him real innocent and peaceful, and finally he said, “You'll have to pay in advance.” “How much is the cheapest room?” the old man asked. The clerk breathed a little easier and said: “Three-fifty.” The old man went in his coat pocket and brought out four crumpled up dollar bills and put them on the desk.

The clerk turned red in the face and said real loud, “You can't have a room without carryin' baggage—where's your baggage?” You could hear a pin drop when the old man placed the paper bag on the desk, opened it and pulled out two rough dry shirts…. Well, with that the clerk took the money, gave him a key and fifty cents change and said, “Top floor rear!”

The couple smiled in such a dignified way, and it seemed like they hadn't noticed a thing. They started over toward the elevator and then the old lady turned away from the man and made her way over to the receptionist's desk. Everyone kept their eyes dead on her, and the receptionist, who was awfully young and pretty, was almost scared out of her wits. The old lady kept makin' straight for her, and I could see that the young lady was gonna scream any second….

When the old woman reached the desk, she leaned over a bowl of red roses that was there and, ever so gently, breathed in the sweet smell, and then she turned away and quickly joined her husband at the elevator, and nobody moved until the doors closed and they were gone from sight….

That's all, Marge. Of course, there was buzzin' and hummin' after that, but I got to wonderin' about who they were and where they came from … and did they have children … and how much work they both done in their lifetime … and what it must feel like to be old and draggin' around in the cold.

That's all there is to the story and it sure don't sound like much the way I tell it, but if I was a poet, I would sing a song of praise for the love in their eyes and I would make you see the sight of a lifetime when that ragged lady bent over those roses, and I would tell how awful it is to be old and broke in the midst of plenty…. And that's what I mean when I say—sometimes I wish I was a poet.

M
ARGE
, as sure as my name is Mildred, I'm tellin' you that we should improve ourselves…. No, we are not all right as we are. We're in a rut. Here we sit watchin' the television and idlin' along with no thought of betterment…. Of course, it's all right to watch T.V., but we ought to be more particular about what we look at. Now instead of watchin' “Gory Story,” we should find something here in the paper that will be beneficial…. Now, here's a show, “Economy Corner.” That's a cookin' program. You know, it's all about stretchin' leftovers and fixin' up new dishes to tempt your appetite and makin' the food look more pleasin' and things like that.

… All right, here it is. My, isn't that a pretty kitchen with the oven in the wall and everything? We better watch sharp so's not to miss trick…. How to fix leftover stringbeans. That oughta be a nice recipe because we got some leftover beans…. Get a pencil, Marge…. You know, the only thing I do with the beans is warm them up again and eat 'em…. First thing she says is take one pint of heavy cream…. Marge, don't be that way! No, she didn't say where to take it from. Just take it! … No, she is not suggestin' that you be dishonest and lift it from the store…. Now take this down: one half cup of butter…. I don't know…. Maybe you could use margarine. Now you need one half pound of sliced mushrooms and one-fourth of a cup of sherry wine and … and four chicken breasts…. Girl! Leftovers can get you into some debt! Leave the dial alone! Don't turn it off. I want to see how she fixes this recipe. Oh oh, one more thing: one cup of chopped parsley…. No, Marge, she didn't forget the stringbeans. They're over there in that little bowl. See, now she fries the chicken in the butter…. Girl, don't be silly, you do not have to buy four chickens in order to get four chicken breasts. You can buy it in parts in one of those poultry stores that sell choice pieces…. I know it's expensive! Who you tellin'! … Wait, don't touch that dial! Now she's addin' the mushrooms. Now the wine and cream is mixed together for the sauce and she pours that right over the bird breasts. There now! Don't it look pretty all turned out on the platter? That's the parsley that she's bunchin' up at each end…. No, Marge, I'm sure she hasn't forgot the beans 'cause after all that's what it's all about…. Well, I'll be dog…. ! She's layin' them stringbeans across the top of the whole mess! Ain't that cute how they look just like little flowers? So that's how you use leftover beans! … Aw shucks! I know we can't afford to make that! … Go ahead. I don't care if you turn it off. No, girl, I just can't take any more “Gory Story” tonight…. I'm agreein' with you…. Let's just heat up our stringbeans and talk chit-chat…. Ain't it the truth! I guess we'd learn more by lookin' out the window than by watchin' all this nonsense…. You know one thing, I'll predict you this much, one of these days somebody with a little sense is gonna make a big success on T.V. by puttin' on somethin' that's good…. I wonder why nobody has thought of it?

M
ARGE
… Sometimes it seems like the devil and all his imps are tryin' to wear your soul case out…. Sit down, Marge, and act like you got nothin' to do…. No, don't make no coffee, just sit….

Today was laundry day and I took Mrs. M …'s clothes down to the basement to put them in the automatic machine. In a little while another houseworker comes down—a white woman. She dumps her clothes on the bench and since my bundle is already in the washer I go over to sit down on the bench and happen to brush against her dirty clothes…. Well sir! She gives me a kinda sickly grin and snatched her clothes away quick….

Now, you know, Marge, that it was nothin' but the devil in her makin' her snatch that bundle away 'cause she thought I might give her folks gallopin' pellagra or somethin'. Well, honey, you know what the devil in me wanted to do! … You are right! … My hand was just itchin' to pop her in the mouth, but I remembered how my niece Jean has been tellin' me that
poppin'
people is not the way to solve problems…. So I calmed myself and said, “Sister, why did you snatch those things and look so flustered?” She turned red and says, “I was just makin' room for you.” Still keepin' calm, I says, “You are a liar.” … And then she hung her head.

“Sister,” I said, “you are a houseworker and I am a houseworker—now will you favor me by answering some questions?” She nodded her head…. The first thing I asked her was how much she made for a week's work and, believe it or not, Marge, she earns less than I do and
that ain't easy
…. Then I asked her, “Does the woman you work for ask you in a
friendly
way to do extra things that ain't in the bargain and then later on get
demandin'
about it?” … She nods, yes…. “Tell me, young woman,” I went on, “does she cram eight hours of work into five and call it
part time?”
… She nods yes again….

Then, Marge, I added, “I am not your enemy, so don't get mad with me just because you ain't free! … Then she speaks up fast, “I am free!” … All right,” I said. “How about me goin' over to your house tonight for supper?” … “Oh,” she says, “I room with people and I don't think they …” I cut her off…. “If you're free,” I said, “you can pick your own friends without fear.”

Wait a minute, Marge, let me tell it now…. “How come, I asked her, “the folks I work for are willin' to have me put my hands all over their chopped meat patties and yet ask me to hang my coat in the kitchen closet instead of in the hall with theirs?” … By this time, Marge, she looked pure bewildered…. “Oh,” she said, “it's all so mixed up I don't understand!”

“Well, it'll all get clearer as we go along,” I said…. “Now when you got to plunge your hands in all them dirty clothes in order to put them in the machine … how come you can't see that it's a whole lot safer and makes more sense to put your hand in mine and be friends?” Well, Marge, she took my hand and said, “I want to be friends!”

I was so glad I hadn't popped her, Marge. The good Lord only knows how hard it is to do things the right way and make peace…. All right now, let's have the coffee, Marge.

I
TELL YOU
, this is a wonderful age to live in! No, dear, I'm not talkin' about washin' machines and such although I must say I'm glad somebody sat down and thought that up, too. What I am talkin' about is everybody up and at bein' something like Myrtle's daughter…. Well, Marge, she is goin' to actin' school…. That's right, she's gonna be a actress. Ain't that nice?

I was over to Myrtle's house this afternoon, and it was somethin' to see Doris goin' on before the mirror and readin' out loud and studyin' and practicin' her lessons! She's got books on top of books, and she can give you some right smart answers to anything you might ask her about plays and theatres and such…. Yes indeed, I'm that proud of her, and I'm glad to see her really gettin' down to her lessons, especially since it's costin' Myrtle a pretty penny…. Of course, she's hopin' to make some money at it and why not? Well, I had Doris about to die laughin'…. Marge, I told her that I believed I could run a actin' school myself because I know just how everything is supposed to go…. What makes me think so? Well, I've seen so many movin' picture shows until by now I could say that I've really got the hang and swing of how things are supposed to happen. That's a natural fact!

No, you cannot go by how things happen in life because they never hardly happen in that way at all. Take for example the young lady who plays the lead part. Well, she most always has a boyfriend that has got himself in trouble by tryin' to solve a murder or somethin'…. That's right, although I must say that I've never yet had the pleasure of meetin' anybody that had the time to do that kind of thing day in and out like they do in the movies. But be that as it may, the young lady in the story always follows her boyfriend around and gets mixed up in the thing too until finally the bad man and her boyfriend get into a big fistfight near the end of the story.

Now it is most important that when they have this fight that she remembers to retire to a corner of the room and tremble in fear…. No, she is not allowed to holler. She must put her hand over her mouth so as not to let the holler escape and just roll her eyes around lookin' pitiful and scared. Then the bad man will drop his gun, her boyfriend will wallow all over the floor tryin' to beat the evil man to that gun! … No Marge! She must
never
pick it up and give it to him or kick it out of the way. She must run to the other side of the room thus givin' them more room to roll and tumble!

You must be out of your mind, Marge! … Of course she can't hit the other man with a bat or do anything like that! … Well, it might be life but that ain't got a thing to do with actin'! Well, things keep goin' along like that, with her goin' from one end of the room to the other until her boyfriend finally gives the villain one big whoppin' right to the jaw which right will knock him out cold. After he knocks him out, he will stand there lookin' kind of groggy and beat while a little stream of blood trickles down the corner of Ms mouth…. Marge, it must come down the corner of his mouth because if it was comin' from his eye, you would expect him to have a black eye, wouldn't you? … And who ever heard of a hero with a black eye? … I don't care how many bare-knuckle licks he took, he must not have no black eyes or puffed up mouth or bashed in nose or nothin' like that! … Well, of course you can know he was in a fight. He can wear a little plaster patch on one cheek, he can perspire and also have his hair ruffled up. And that's how you would know!