Like One of the Family (23 page)

One of the speakers interrupted me and said, “They ought to be doin' a whole lot more. After all, it's
their
laws that's makin' all the trouble!” “You are so right,” I says, “and we oughta encourage 'em! We got to start showin' that we know how some of the folks are scared and pep-talk 'em a little bit! When we hear that there's a mob made up of hundreds of folks, we got to realize that the other thousands upon thousands was
not
out there with 'em and got to ask 'em how come they can't show some gumption and start doin' and speakin' against the mobs instead of sittin' home washin' their hands of it like Pontius Pilate. For too long they have been allowed to think that we don't expect any
good
to come from them, that we just fold our hands and say, ‘Oh, well, they're Southerners, so what can you expect?' We got to start sayin' to 'em, ‘Speak up so's we can hear you, if everybody ain't for oppressin', then let those that's against it stand up and be counted! We got to include 'em in the
stand!
We got to write some of their churches and clubs and things and ask 'em, ‘Where are you and what are you goin' to do?' When we get their answers, we'll have it down in black and white for the whole world to see! And I bet we'll rack up a few more friends down that way!”

The lady behind me says to me, “Honey, they should speak if they feel right! Looks like we'd be goin' out of our way to be askin' 'em about it.”

“Yes,” I says, “we would, but it's goin' to take some out-of-the-way things to change them Southern laws! After all, we sure hear plenty from the folks who don't want the law to change and from the Northerners who're willin' to go part-way with the civil rights but hang back some when it comes to
livin'
the thing right down the line!”

Marge, I got solid agreement on that 'cause folks know that even though our laws are much better than down home, we still got to put up such a to-do to get what the law promises. Didn't they try to keep the man out of the housin' project out in Chicago, didn't
they
have mobs gatherin'? How 'bout folks tarrin' the colored woman's home out in
Long Island?
Mobs and meanness can happen in any part of the land but them
laws
in the South just make it easier for it to go on!

Sure, I told them all those things and they had to listen to me, too, 'cause while we're settlin' the trouble down South, we got to remember that we want
all our rights, everywhere
and this is no time for Northerners to get so smug…. You're right, girl! All the colored folk that's standin' up and talkin' out in Mississippi, Alabama, Kentucky, Carolina and all over the South, ain't they
Southerners
, too! Yes, indeed, we got to send the message East, West,
North
and
South
…. It's high time that the land should be free, from one corner to the other!

T
ODAY
I
HAVE
a good feelin'! Marge, life has its moments and every once in a while you hit up on one of them and you wouldn't take anything in the world for what it feels like! One good day like this one will last me a long time to come!

You know I worked hard today, but I really enjoyed every blessed minute of it because my mornin' got off to a rousin' good start! Well, Mrs. M … has house guests visitin' her. Guess where they are from! … Well, no point in you guessin' 'cause I'm glad to tell you. They are from
Alabama!
It seems they are some kind of far-removed cousins, and they are up here doin' the town for a couple of weeks. I don't get to see much of the woman because she is out shoppin' and seein' shows durin' the daytime, but her husband sticks close to the house and spends his time scribblin' things down on paper.

They have been hangin' around for nearly a week already and I was feelin' kinda sorry for Mr. and Mrs. M … 'cause the whole business is developin' into quite a strain. Mrs. M…. was followin' me from room to room in order to keep him out of my way and whenever I had to do any cleanin' in Mr. Alabama's, she would try to steer him to the other end of the house. Oh, I was wise to the drift of things and as I said, I felt sorry for Mrs. M ….

She was scared out of her wits that Mr. Alabama was gonna say somethin'
wrong
. It seems like I was drawin' him like a magnet 'cause she really had her work cut out for her. Every time he'd come hoverin' around she'd think up some reason to call him into another room. “Come on in here, Billy, I'm goin' to fix us some coffee,” or, “come here, Billy, there's a very interestin' program on T.V.,” and things like that.

I guess it had her pure wore-out because after a while she calls me in her bedroom and whispers to me, “Mildred, Billy is from Alabama, and he has some strange ways and right now he is just eaten up with what's goin' on down there.” “Is that so?” I says. “Yes,” she answered, “you know how the colored people are insistin' on the school situation and things like that.” “Indeed,” says I. “Oh, yes,” she says, “and while Mr. M … and I are very up-to-date in our ideas, Billy sees things a little differently.” “You don't say!” I says.

You should have seen her runnin' her hands through her hair and glancin' back over her shoulder like she expected Billy Alabama to come in on us any moment. “Mildred,” she mumbled, “I'm so afraid he'll say or do somethin' offensive, but I can't keep him out of your way all the time, so if he says anything to you I want you to feel perfectly free to speak right up and express yourself.” I laughed a little then, “Put your mind at ease, Mrs. M…. because I will surely do just that!”

Marge, when I said that she began to look more worried than ever and adds, “I wish you would handle the matter without name-callin' or makin' a big scene. I'd consider that a favor because Billy is very stubborn about certain things, but on the other hand he is a good man in a great many ways. For example, when my mother died, he was real nice about helpin' out the family and he did see that my brother was able to finish school and …” I held my hand up real calm and solemn-like, “Don't worry about it 'cause if
he
don't holler and beller at me, I don't see any reason why I should lose my head about anything.” She sighed a big sigh of relief and went on, “No, he wouldn't do that and although he's a bit narrowminded, he is genteel.” I nodded and smiled my agreement, and she and I parted company and went on about our business.

I was dustin' the books in the library when Mr. Billy Alabama of the genteel, narrowminded school of thought finally caught up with me. Marge, that man's eyes was as cold as a icecube at the North Pole! But his mouth was neatly tucked up at each corner so that he looked like he was wearin' some kinda false-face smile.

“Well, sister …” Yes, that's just the way he started off! My mind started runnin' like a sewin' machine, and before he got the next words out I had given myself two or three private words of instruction. “Mildred,” I says to myself, “don't ask him if you look like one of his mother's children, don't call him ‘brother' and don't tip your hand one way or the other until you get the full message that's on Billy Alabama's mind.”

Just as these thoughts twittered through my mind, he was still talkin'. “… seems like you kinda busy there this afternoon! I was just tellin' my cousin how I couldn't help but admire your ways. Yes, indeed, I told her, ‘That girl really impresses me as bein' right smart and you mighty luck to have her, what with times bein' what they are today with first one thing and then another.'”

Honey, I pinned a smile on, too, and sorta nodded in a general kinda way. Of course he took that as the high-sign to move on up a little higher. “I'm tellin' you these are some terrible times we livin' in and like I was sayin' to my wife this mornin', ‘Darlin', between the atomic bomb and the races fightin' one another and the high cost of livin', it strikes me that it just ain't worth a man's time to get out of bed in the mornin',' Yes, that's what I told her. But she's a
very
remarkable woman, and I'm glad to say that she always looks at things on the brighter side, so she says, ‘Billy, there's no sense in bein' down at the mouth all the time because the world is gonna keep on turnin' and the sun's gonna keep on risin', and this race business is gonna straighten out, no matter how dark the picture might be at the present moment!' Yes, that's what she said! Her words started me to thinkin' and the more I thought the more convinced I was that she just
might
be dead right. Well, sister, I'm not losin' my faith in Nigras….”

Marge, I wish you wouldn't be laughin' through every word I say…. Well, if you think my imitation is good, you shoulda dug
him!
Girl, there I was
tryin'
to control myself, and you know how a vein in your temple can start to throbbin' and beatin' when you're holdin' somethin' inside of you that ought to come out! … No, I didn't bust or cuss, but I held fast to the smile, determined to hear him through although I had to ease in a couple of words. “You can call me, Mildred.” I says.

Billy Alabama looks a little shook up for a minute and then he says, “All right,
Millie
, now, as I was sayin', I am not goin' to lose
my
faith in the Nigras no matter what
anybody
says. I have known some really
fine
Nigras over the years and I say that they were some of the
greatest
people I ever met.”

By this time Marge, he decided to settle down to business and really chat a while so he takes a seat in Mrs. M … 's leather chair. Well, you know there's two of those armchairs that sits facin' each other right in front of the fireplace. So I sat down in the other one. Girl, he got a look on his face like somebody had just slammed a automobile door on his finger.

Sure, he had to go on or else get
ungenteel!
Well, I could see him struggling for strength. He swallowed hard and started in again, “Some of the greatest people I've ever met. There was one old colored gentleman in particular that I recall, Rev'rend Higgensby! Never had a day's schoolin in his life, but I don't think a wiser man ever trod this earth. He was humble and sort of quiet-spoken, but he had a heart as big as all out-doors and when I was a lad there was many a day that we'd go down to the old fishin' pond and just
laaaaazy
away the afternoon together. Old Rev'rend Higgensby would say, ‘Mr. Billy, you gonna be a
great
man one o' dese days an' I'se gonna be pow'ful proud o' you, but I wonts you to 'member po' old me and when you gits up dere in de high-place I wonts you to sen' for de of man to take kere of you an' see dat no harm don' come to plague Mr. Billy.'

“… Yes, that's what he said. He also said, ‘Dis po' ol' man ain' nothin' no-how, but when you's struttin' in de high-place, I'se gonna be so proud o' what you's doin' 'til I'se gonna fol' my han's and say, “Lawdy, call dis ol' man home to Glory 'cause I'se had my reward!” ‘ ”

Marge, Billy Alabama's eyes misted up so 'til he had to take off his glasses and polish 'em up while he paused for a breath.

“He sounds like a real character, all right,” I says. “Is he dead?” He put his glasses on and shook his head. “No, the old man's still hobblin' around on a cane, he's pretty crippled up now, but he still has a light in his eye and a smile on his face.”

Billy Alabama waited for me to say somethin' so I said, “No, nothin's gonna kill old reverend but time.”

“Well,” Billy says, “I talked with the old gentleman a few weeks ago and his mind is just as spry as ever.” “Do tell!” I says, and Billy rambles on with his story, “‘… Rev'rend,' I asked him, ‘what do you think is gettin' into these Nigras to make them carry on all this devilment about the schools and busses, where do you think it will end?' And the old man shook his head sadly as he looked up at me …”

I interrupted him then, “Where was he, on the floor?” “Oh, no,” Billy says, “he was sick in bed, just kind of ailin', but he looked up at me and said, ‘Mr. Billy, fo'give 'em fo' dey knows not what dey do, dey's pow'ful change comin' ovah folk and dey's fo'gettin' de of ways and dey's fo'gettin' de days when all wuz peace and dey's fo'gettin' dey place.' Yes, that's what the old man said. Now, Millie, I'd like to be able to go and see him when I get back home and tell about the fine girl that's workin' for my cousin up North. I'd like to tell him what
you
think about the fuss that's goin' on. I suppose you've heard something about what's goin' on down our way.”

“Oh, yes,” I say, “there's been a few rumors flyin' around, and we've been able to hear a bit of it now and then even though we do live way up here in New York City. It's really surprisin' how news travels these days.”

“Well,” he says, “I'm preparin' a paper for one of our Southern newspapers and it would help me if I could hear your viewpoint.”

No, Marge, I wasn't ready to jump in yet so I put up my guard. “I'd like to know what
you
think.” He fell right in and went to tellin' me. “The Lord, in His great wisdom, wanted the races to be as separate as the fingers on the hand, if He had wanted them to be together He would have made them all look the same, He would have mixed them up in the first place if that is what He wanted. Why try to improve on the Lord's handiwork. Mixin' the schools will mix the races!”

I gave him a real inquirin' look, “Do you think that the white folks will have so little control of their personal feelin's that they will up and marry us from kindergarten all the way through college?”