The Road to Memphis (24 page)

“Well, give it to him! It’s B.C.!”

Stacey took the powder from her and handed it back to Moe.

The woman shook her head, watching to see if Moe would give it to Clarence. “Y’all sho got a nerve, I give ya that. But y’all crazy to come here. They don’t ’low no Negroes in this hospital. Y’all oughta know that! Now, y’all wanna help this boy, take him on up to Ma Dessie’s place. She ’bout the nearest thing we got to a doctor. Y’all take him up there, maybe she can help him.”

“How we find her?” asked Stacey.

The woman gave directions. “Tell her Tesda done told y’all to come on up.”

“We’re much obliged,” Stacey said and pulled off.

Ma Dessie’s place was on the northern outskirts of the town.
The roadway leading to the place was an overgrown wagon trail, and the house at the end of the trail could hardly be called little more than a shack. Barefooted youngsters, some bare bottomed, too, played in the yard, despite the chill. The woman we figured to be Ma Dessie sat rocking on the porch watching them. An old man sat on the steps. As we entered the clearing the children scattered. Some ran to the protection of the old woman; the others just stood aside staring. After all, we were strangers here.

Stacey got out. “Day, ma’am,” he said, touching his hand to his hat. “Sir. How y’all doing?”

“We be fine,” said the woman, returning the cordialities folks always exchanged.

“We looking for Ma Dessie.”

The old woman gave a slow nod. “That be me.”

“Well, we just came up from Jackson, and we got us a friend sick in the car. Lady name of Tesda down at the hospital said bring him here. Said maybe you could help him.”

“What’s the matter with him?”

Stacey explained.

The old woman squinted, studying Stacey. She studied us in the car as well, then got up. “Y’all bring him on in here,” she said.

We did as she ordered. The boys got Clarence into the darkened squalor of the house and laid him on a corn-husk mattress. The old woman then looked him over. Sitting on the side of the bed, she reminded me of Big Ma the way she checked his eyes and his mouth and felt his head with her hands. Then she questioned Clarence. “Tell me what ya feeling, child.”

“Like something . . . something growing in my head. Oh, Lordy, Lordy, something growing in my head!”

“Touch the pain. Show me where it at.”

Clarence gripped the left side of his head. “Oh, Lordy!”

The woman watched Clarence for several moments as he writhed under the pain, then she nodded as if having made a decision about something and got up. She went over to a table in the darkened corner of the room and pulled two tin cans down from a shelf. She poured powders from the cans into a dish and mixed them together. She took the powder the woman Tesda had sent and mixed it in. Then she took part of the preparation, put it in a glass, poured in water, and stirred. She took the glass to Clarence and told him to drink it. “It’s powerful more stronger than them BCs. Lord willin’, it gonna ease yo’ pain some,” she said.

Clarence gulped it down and lay back.

“Y’all go on out now,” said the woman Ma Dessie.

“What about Clarence?” asked Stacey.

Ma Dessie looked down at Clarence; there was a frown on her face. “He be all right for now. Just let him rest.”

“But those headaches—” I said.

“Lord willin’, they gonna ease up. But I done seen the headache bad like this befo’e. Sometimes they eases on up and don’t come back, then again sometimes they just goes on and on, jus’ bein’ the miseries.” She had kept her eyes on Clarence as she talked; now she suddenly turned. “Y’all younguns hungry?”

“No, ma’am, we’re fine,” said Stacey.

“Got some corn hoecakes jus’ come out the stove. Mustard greens there in the pot. Maylene!”

We were surprised to hear her holler out, but almost as soon as she did a pretty girl of thirteen or so appeared at the back door. “Yeah, Ma?” she said.

“Get them tin plates from yonder, rinse ’em out good, then
you take that messa greens and that corn bread out to the porch and serve these folks.”

Stacey looked around at all the wide-eyed children standing barefoot on the dirt floor and thanked her for her hospitality but told her we weren’t hungry.

“Y’all been travelin’ all the way up from Jackson, y’all ain’t had no dinner. We got plenty. Now, y’all go on outside, let this boy rest. I calls y’all when he wakes.”

Clarence was already asleep. Whatever she had given him was powerful stuff. At least for the moment the pain was gone. I looked at Stacey. He nodded, not wanting to insult her, and went out with Moe and Little Willie. I asked Ma Dessie if I could have some water to wash up. She looked at my muddy coat, my torn stockings, the dried vomit, but didn’t ask questions.

“There’s a pan out on the back porch. Bucket of water too. Ya help yourself t’ it.”

“Thank you, ma’ am,” I said and went as far as the door, then turned to give her some explanation. “I fell too.”

She nodded, as if explanations were unnecessary. “That happens, sho do.” Then she turned back to her powders, and I went out.

I washed up as best I could. Maylene brought me a towel, but it was sour smelling, and there was no soap. I put the towel aside, splashed water on my face, and tried to clean my hands. Then I checked my knees. They looked a mess. Each of the stockings had ripped open right at the knee, and blood was caked on both my knees and the stockings. Scabs had already begun to form, and I worried about the encrusted dirt. I had badly skinned my knees before, and I was fearful of infection. I thought about taking off the stockings, but with the heater hardly working in the car I needed something on my legs,
even the stockings as torn as they were. I looked at the sour towel Maylene had brought me, but I didn’t use it. Instead I wet the bottom of my slip, which was still clean, and gently dabbed at the sores. My knees smarted. I managed to get a little of the dirt off, then left my knees alone.

There was little I could do about the rest of me. I threw out the water and went around the house to the front porch. The old man who had been sitting on the steps was no longer there. I sat down beside the boys just as the girl Maylene brought out the food—the pot of collards and the corn bread. She also brought water for the boys to wash their hands, then she gave us each a tin plate and told us to dip out a portion. There was no meat. “Y’all go ’head,” said the girl as the children looked on. “We eats later.”

Stacey hesitated. It was bad manners to refuse what was offered, but there were so many children who had to be fed from that pot. “Why don’t y’all come join us?” he said.

One of the children stepped forward, but the girl pulled him back. “No, suh, y’all go ’head. We eats later. There’s plenty, now. Help y’allselves.”

Stacey started to object again, but Maylene insisted, and rather than offend, Stacey dipped out a spoonful of the greens onto the corn bread. He nodded his thanks, and the girl, holding the pot, offered us each a portion. When she had passed around the pot one time, she set it on the porch, then she and all the children stood around to watch us eat.

Stacey commended her on the meal. “It’s mighty fine,” he announced after one bite, and we all concurred, though the food was somewhat greasy to me.

The girl smiled widely, pleased by the praise, and offered us more. We declined with thanks, and she accepted that. We finished our eating, the girl collected our plates, then we waited.

Little Willie leaned back in his chair. “How long that boy gonna sleep?” he asked impatiently.

Stacey stared out into the broom-swept yard. “Don’t know. That stuff she gave him sure knocked him out.”

“Hope it knocked out that headache too,” I said.

Stacey got up and left the porch. He went over to the car and put up the hood. I followed him down. “What you doing?”

“Figure while we waiting I might as well try and see what’s wrong with this car. Whatever we hit going off into those woods got the engine not running right.”

“You worried maybe the car won’t get us to Memphis?”

“Lord, sure hope it gets us there,” said Willie, coming down the steps with Moe, “or we sure are in trouble. Last thing we wanna do is go get stuck in this here town. Reminds me too much of Strawberry!”

Stacey glanced at Willie as if he had read his mind, then he bent under the hood. After some time he pulled off his jacket and slid under the car. When he pulled out from under it, he was frowning. “Looks like the oil pan’s busted. It’s leaking oil. Transmission could be damaged too.”

“Is that bad?” I asked, dusting off his back.

“Couldn’t get much worse,” said Moe despondently, and I knew he was blaming himself for the condition of the car, as he was for everything else that had happened. “It’s not fixed, it’ll damage the engine bad.”

I glanced from him to Stacey. “Well, what do we do about it?” Stacey looked at me, then put down the hood. “Pray this Ford gets us to Memphis, Cassie . . . pray hard.”

I didn’t like the sound of that, but there was no time for praying now as Ma Dessie hollered from the porch. “Y’all can come on in now! That boy’s awake!”

We hurried into the house. Clarence was lying quietly, his
eyes closed, a clean rag now around his head. As we gathered by the bed he opened his eyes slightly and tried to smile.

“How you feeling?” we all asked.

“Lot better’n I was feelin’ little bit ago, that’s for sure.”

I took his hand. “Boy, you had us scared.”

“Had myself scared, Cassie. Still got the headache but not like before. It’s just a regular kind of a headache now. Long as I be right still, don’t feel it too much.”

“We can’t stay here all day, now,” chided Little Willie. “You say you feeling better there, Clarence, then get on up from there, hoss, so’s we can get on to Memphis! You be all right now.”

Clarence sat up, grimaced with pain, and lay back down. “Starts up again bad when I sit up.”

“Need to rest,” said Ma Dessie.

“Well, we can’t leave him here,” said Stacey.

“Y’all comin’ back this way?”

“Yes, ma’am, figure to be back through a bit later today sometime but—”

“Then y’all can leave him on here. We take care of him. Me and this girl Maylene, we don’t mind tendin’ him.”

Stacey consulted Clarence. “What you want to do?”

“Figure these folks don’t mind, maybe it be best I stay on, let this headache ease up.”

“We get to Memphis, maybe we can find you a doctor.”

“Lord, I move and get that headache back, don’t think I could make it to Memphis. I’m feeling a sight better now, and much as I wanna see Memphis, I figure I rest up here, maybe get me another dose of medicine, then I be all fixed up time y’all get back.”

Stacey glanced at Ma Dessie, then looked again at Clarence. “I don’t like leaving you.”

“Oh, I be all right. Y’all gotta get Moe to Memphis. Get him to Memphis on that train to Mr. Hammer, that’s the main thing. So don’t y’all worry none ’bout me! Only thing I’m worried ’bout is getting back to that base on time. I don’t make it back there, I’m gonna be in a whole lotta trouble that ole sergeant get holda me.”

Stacey looked around at Little Willie and Moe. “Maybe one of us better stay with him—”

“Well, it won’t be me,” said Little Willie. “I want to see Memphis!”

Stacey frowned. “Well, one of us ought to—”

“Naw! Y’all go on and see to Moe!” insisted Clarence. “I mean it, man! I’m all right! Y’all go on!” He motioned Stacey closer and said in a softer voice, “That Maylene’s sure a pretty girl, ain’t she? Can’t ask for no prettier nurse’n that. Y’all here, y’all just be in the way.”

Stacey smiled appreciatively and patted Clarence’s shoulder.

I bent over Clarence and whispered, “You best be putting your mind on Sissy and forget about this child Maylene.”

“Cassie’s right, hoss,” said Willie, taking Stacey’s place by the bed as Stacey went to talk to Ma Dessie. “Don’t go getting too friendly with your nurse, now, ’cause look like to me Ma Dessie there, she take a shotgun to you quick as Ma Batie.”

Clarence managed another smile.

“Look here,” said Moe, taking Clarence’s hand, “you take care of yourself, now, Clarence.”

“You the one. Don’t let the white folks get ya, Moe.”

Moe nodded. “Gonna try my best not to.”

“Let us know how ya doing, now . . . and tell Mr. Hammer maybe I be comin’ up to Chicago I get outa this uniform.”

“Yeah, I’ll do that.”

Stacey finished his words with Ma Dessie and turned once more to Clarence. “You sure you’ll be all right?”

“Stop worryin’ over me like some ole mother hen. Told ya, Stacey, go on and get Moe to Memphis.” His speaking was labored, soft as a whisper. We didn’t want to leave him.

“All right, we’ll go on,” Stacey conceded, “but we’ll be back soon as we can.”

“Y’all don’t get back soon, I’m gonna go ’head and take the bus, now. Don’t worry. I can make it back on my own just fine.”

“You take care of that headache, now,” said Stacey.

I gave his hand a gentle squeeze, then started to pull away, but Clarence kept hold.

“Cassie . . . I got that letter started.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Gonna mail it I get back to Jackson. Don’t let me forget it, now. I get to feeling a bit better here, I’m gonna finish it.”

“Then get to feeling better quick.”

“What letter y’all talking about?” asked Willie.

“Letter to Sissy,” I said.

Little Willie grinned. “Letter, huh? Man, you keep messin’ ’round here, Sissy gonna hook you yet, boy!”

“Yeah . . .” Clarence murmured. “Yeah . . . but maybe that ain’t so bad.” He managed a weak smile and a slight wave of his hand.

We said good-bye one more time, then went out. Ma Dessie, the girl Maylene, and all those wide-eyed, barefoot children followed us out to the car. Stacey tried to give Ma Dessie some money for all their trouble, but Ma Dessie wouldn’t take
it. “I was a stranger, but ya took me in. That’s what the good book say, and I don’t recollect nowhere it sayin’ nothin’ ’bout no money.”

“Well, we sure do thank you,” said Stacey.

Ma Dessie waved off any gratitude. “We take care of him. Don’t y’all worry ’bout him none.”