Read Uncle Tom's Children Page 17


  “Whutcha wan, Dan?”

  “Now, lissen….”

  “Ain nothin wrong, is it, Dan? Ain nothin happened, is it?”

  He grabbed her arm.

  “Naw, n don git scared!”

  “Ah ain scared!”

  “Yuh cant do whut Ah wan yuh t do ef yuhs scared!”

  “Ah ain scared, Dan!”

  “Lissen….”

  “Yeah?”

  “The mayors here, in the parlor. N the Chiefa Police….”

  She stood stock still and seemed not to breathe.

  “The mayor?”

  “Yeah….”

  “Ain nothin wrong, is it, Dan?”

  “There wont be ef yuh lissen n try t do right.”

  “Be careful, Dan!”

  “Yeah,” he said, his voice low and husky. “Go in and tell them white folks Ahm sick, hear?”

  She stepped back from him and shook her head.

  “Gawd ain wid yuh when yuh lie, Dan!”

  “We gotta lie t white folks! Theys on our necks! They make us lie t them! Whut kin we do but lie?”

  “Dan!”

  “Lissen t whut Ahm tellin yuh, May! Tell the mayor Ahm gittin outta bed t see im. Tell im Ahm dressin, see? Tell im t wait a few minutes.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Then go t the basement n tell Deacon Smith Ahm wid the mayor. Tell im n the other deacons t wait.”

  “Now?”

  “Yeah; but Ah ain thu yit. Yuh know Hadley n Green?”

  “Them Reds?”

  “Yeah….”

  “Dan!” said May, her lungs suspiring in one gasp of amazed helplessness.

  “May, fer Chrissakes!”

  She began to cry.

  “Don do nothin wrong, Dan, please! Don fergit Jimmy! Hes jus a young boy n hes gotta grow up in this town wid these white folks. Don go n do nothin n fix it so he wont have chance…. Me n yuh don mattah, but thinka him, Dan, please….”

  Taylor swallowed and looked hard at her.

  “May, yuh do whut Ah tell yuh t do! Ah know whut Ahm doin. Hadley n Greens downstairs, in the Bible Room. Tell em so nobody kin hear yuh, hear?—tell em aftah yuh don tol the others—tell em t come in here. Let em in thu yo room….”

  “Naw!”

  She tried to get through the door. He ran to her and caught her hand again.

  “Yuh do whut Ah tell yuh, May!”

  “Ah ain gonna have them Reds in here wid tha mayor n Chiefa Police out there! Ah ain!”

  “Go on n do whut Ah tell yuh, May!”

  “Dan!”

  “Go erhead, May!”

  He pushed her. She went through the door, slowly, looking back at him. When the door was closed he rammed his hands deep into his pants’ pockets, turned to the open window, and looked out into the street. It was profoundly quiet, save for the silvery sound of children’s voices back of the church. The air was soft, warm, and full of the scent of magnolias and violets. Window panes across the street were blood-red from dying sunlight. A car sped past, lifting a great cloud of yellow-brown dust. He went to the center of the room and stood over a table littered with papers. He cocked his head, listening. He heard a door slam; footsteps echoed and ceased. A big eight-day clock above his head boomed six times; he looked and his eyes strayed up and rested on a gleaming, brass cross. Gawd, hep me now! Jus hep me t go thu wid this! Again he heard a door slam. Lawd, Ah hope May do right now…. N Ah hope Jimmy don go n ack a fool…. He crossed the floor on tiptoe, opened the door, and peeped into May’s room. It was empty. A slender prism of dust-filled sunlight cut across the air. He closed the door, turned, pulled off his coat and threw it across the table. Then he loosened his collar and tie. He went to the window again and leaned with his back against the ledge, watching the door of May’s room. He heard a hoarse voice rise and die. Footsteps again sounded and ceased. He frowned, listening. How come its takin May so long? He started when a timid knock came. He hurried to the door and cracked it.

  V

  “Hello, Reverend Taylor!” said Hadley, a white man.

  “How yuh, Brother Hadley?”

  “N how yuh, Reveren?” asked Green, a black man.

  “Ahm fine, Brother Green. C mon in, yuh all.”

  Hadley and Green edged through the door.

  “Say, whuts alla mystery?” asked Green.

  “Ssssh! Don talk so loud,” cautioned Taylor. “The mayor n the Chiefa Police is out there.”

  The Negro and the white man stood stone still.

  “Do they know wes here?” asked Green.

  “Naw, n don git scared. They done come t see me erbout tha demonstration….”

  Hadley and Green looked at each other.

  “Pull down tha shade,” whispered Green, pointing a shaking, black finger.

  Quickly, Hadley moved to one side, out of range of the window. His cheeks flushed pink. Taylor lowered the shade and faced them in the semi-darkness. The eyes of the white man and the black man were upon him steadily.

  “Waal?” said Green.

  “Ah spose yuh know whuts up,” said Taylor.

  “Theyre here to scare you,” said Hadley.

  “Ahm trustin Gawd,” sighed Taylor.

  “Whut yuh gonna tell em?” asked Green.

  “Thas whut Ah wanna see yuh all erbout,” said Taylor.

  “O.K. Whut kin we do?” asked Green.

  Taylor looked around and motioned toward two chairs.

  “Set down, Brothers.”

  “Naw, this is awright,” said Green, still standing.

  “Come on,” said Hadley. “What’s on your mind?”

  Taylor folded his arms and half-sat and half-leaned on the edge of the table.

  “Yuh all think wes gonna have many folks out in the mawnin fer the demonstration?”

  “Whut yuh mean?” asked Green.

  “When Ahm talkin wid the mayor and Chiefa Police Ah wanna know how many folks Ahm talkin fer. There ain no use in us havin a demonstration ef ain but a few of us is gonna be out there. The police will try t kill us then….”

  “How many folks we can get out tomorrow depends a great deal on you, Reverend,” said Hadley.

  “Hows that?” asked Taylor.

  “If you had let us use your name on those handbills, we could say five thousand easily….”

  Taylor turned sharply to Hadley.

  “Lissen, Brother, Ah done tol yuh Ah cant do tha! N there ain no use in us talkin erbout it no mo! Ah done told yuh Ah cant let them white folks know Ahm callin folks t demonstrate. Aftah all, Ahma preacher….”

  “Its yo duty, Reveren,” said Green. “We owes it our black folks.”

  “Ahm doin mah duty as Gawd lets me see it,” said Taylor.

  “All right, Reverend,” said Hadley. “Heres what happened: Weve covered the city with fifteen thousand leaflets. Weve contacted every organization we could think of, black and white. In other words, weve done all we could. The rest depends on the leaders of each group. If we had their active endorsement, none of us would have to worry about a crowd tomorrow. And if we had a crowd we would not have to worry about the police. If they see the whole town turning out, theyll not start any trouble. Now, youre known. White and black in this town respect you. If you let us send out another leaflet with your name on it calling for….”

  Taylor turned from them and drew his hand nervously across his face. Hadley and Green were silent, watching him. Taylor went to the window and pulled back the curtain slightly and peeped out. Without turning he said softly:

  “Ah done tol yuh all Ah ain scareda lettin yuh use mah name.”

  “We don mean tha,” said Green hastily.

  “Ef it wuz jus me who wuz takin the chance,” said Taylor, “Ah wouldnt care none. But Gawd knows it ain right fer me to send them po folks out inter the streets in fronta police. Gawd knows, Ah cant do tha!”

  “Honest, Reveren,” said Green, touching Taylor’s arm. “Ah don understan. Yuh done been thu harder things than this befo.??
?

  “N Ahll go thu wid em ergin,” said Taylor proudly.

  “All right!” said Hadley. “You can say the word that can make this thing a success. If you dont and we have no crowd, then youre to blame….”

  Taylor’s eyes narrowed and when he spoke there was a note of anger in his voice.

  “Gawd hep yuh ef yuhs a-tryin t say yuh gonna blame me ef things don go right!”

  “Naw, Reveren!” said Green, coming hurriedly forward and spreading his black hands softly upon the air. “Don feel that way! Wes all jus in a jam. We got t do either two things: Call off this demonstration and let the folks stay hongry, er git as many as we kin together n go downtown in the mawnin. Ef we git five thousan down there the police wont bother us. Ef yuh let us send out yo name tellin the black folks….”

  “Naw, Brother!” said Taylor emphatically.

  “Then the demonstrations going to be smashed,” said Hadley. “You can stop it! You have the responsibility and the blame!”

  Taylor sighed.

  “Gawd knows Ah ain t blame. Ahm doin whut mah heart tells me t do….”

  “Then whats keeping you from working with us?” asked Hadley. “Im a white man and Im here willing to fight for your peoples rights!”

  “Ahm wid yuh, Brother!” said Taylor in a voice which carried a deep note of pleading. “Ahm wid yuh no mattah whut yuh think! But yuh cant use mah name! Ef them white folks knowed Ah wuz callin mah folks in the streets t demonstrate, they wouldnt never gimme a chance t git something fer mah folks ergin….”

  “Thats just it, Reverend,” said Hadley. “Dont be afraid of their turning you down because youre fighting for your people. If they knew youd really fight, theyd dislike you; yes? But you can make them give something to all of your people, not just to you. Dont you see, Taylor, youre standing between your people and the white folks. You can make them give something to all of them. And the poor, hungry white folks will be with you.”

  “Ah cant lead mah folks t go ergin them white folks like tha,” said Taylor. “Thas war!”

  Hadley came close to Taylor.

  “Reverend, cant you see thats just the way the white folks want you to feel? Are you leading your folks just because the white folks say you should, or are you leading them because you want to? Dont you believe in what youre doing? What kind of leaders are black people to have if the white folks pick them and tell them what to do?”

  “Brothers, Ahma Christian, n whut yuhs astin fer is something tha makes blood!” thundered Taylor.

  Hadley and Green looked at each other.

  “Waal, whut yuh gonna tell the mayor?” asked Green.

  Taylor stood in the center of the room with his hands in his pockets, looking down at his feet. His voice came low, as though he were talking to himself, trying to convince himself.

  “Ahma tell em mah folks is hongry. Ahma tell em they wanna march. Ahma tell em ef they march Ahma march wid em. Ahma tell em they wan bread….”

  “Reverend,” asked Hadley, “why do you feel that this is so different from all the other times youve gone straight to the white folks and demanded things for your people?”

  “It is different!” said Taylor.

  “You didnt say that when you saved Scott from that mob!”

  “Tha wuz different, Brother Hadley.”

  “I dont see it.”

  Taylor’s voice came low.

  “Ah feels differently erbout it, Brothers.”

  “You saved Scotts life. All right, youre saving the lives of your congregation now. Scott was one man, but there are five hundred starving people in your church.”

  “We ain facin no mob now, Brother Hadley.”

  “Then what in Gods name are we facing, Reverend? If those police wholl be out there in the morning with their guns and clubs arent a legal mob, then what….”

  “Its more than a mob, Brother Hadley.”

  Hadley and Green shook their heads.

  “Ah don understan yuh, Reveren,” said Green.

  “When Ah saved Scott from tha mob, Ah wuz goin ergin some of the white folks. But this thing is going ergin em all! This is too much like war!”

  “You mean youre going against the ones with money now!” said Hadley. “Over three thousand of the poor white folks will be with us….”

  “But, Brother Hadley, the white folks whos got moneys got everthing! This is jus like civil war!”

  “Reverend,” said Hadley, “cant you see that if they were not afraid they wouldnt be here asking to talk with you? Go in and talk with them, speak to them in the name of five thousand hungry people. Tell the mayor and the Chief of Police that if they dont give the relief back we will demonstrate.”

  “Ah cant do tha, Brothers. Ah cant let these white folks think Ahm leadin mah folks tha way. Ah tol yuh brothers when Ah ergreed t work wid yuh Ahd go as fer as Ah could. Waal, Ah done done tha. Now, yuh here astin me t threaten this whole town n Ah ain gonna do tha!” said Taylor.

  “Yuh astin fer bread, Reveren,” said Green.

  “Its threatenin, Brothers,” said Taylor. “N tha ain Gawds way!”

  “So youll let your folks starve before youll stand up and talk to those white folks?” asked Hadley.

  “Ahm ackin as Gawd gives me the light t see,” said Taylor.

  There was silence. Then Hadley laughed, noiselessly.

  “Well,” he said. “I didn’t know you felt this way, Reverend. I thought we could count on you. You know the Party will stand behind you no matter what happens.”

  “Ahm sorry, Brother Hadley,” said Taylor.

  “When kin we see yuh t fin out whut the mayor n Chiefa Police say?” asked Green.

  Taylor looked at his watch.

  “Its a little aftah six now. Make it half-pas six. Thall gimme time t see the Deacon Board.”

  Green sighed.

  “O.K.”

  “O.K.”

  Taylor held the door for them. Then he stood in the center of the room and looked miles through the floor. Lawd, Ah hope Ahm doin right. N they think Ahm scared…. He flushed hot with shame and anger. He sat in a chair for a moment, then got right up. He drummed his fingers on the corner of the table. Shucks, Ah jus as waal see them white folks now n git it over wid. Ah knowed this wuz comin up! Ah knowed it! He went through May’s room, walking slowly, softly, seeing in his mind the picture of the fat, pink face of Mayor Bolton and the lean, red face of Chief of Police Burden. As he turned into the narrow hall that led to the parlor he heard children yelling in the playground. He went down a stairway, opened a door, and walked through his hushed, dim-lit church. Pale rose light fell slantwise through stained windows and glinted on mahogany pews. He lifted his eyes and saw the figure of Christ on a huge snow-white cross. Gawd, hep me now! Lemme do the right thing! He followed a red carpet to a door that opened into the parlor. He paused and passed his tongue over his dry lips. He could feel his heart beating. Ahll let them do all the talkin. Ahll jus tell em mah folks is hongry. Thas all Ah kin do. Slowly, he turned the knob, his lips half-parted in dread.

  VI

  “Why, hello, Dan!”

  “Good evenin, Mistah Mayor.”

  “Howve you been, Dan?”

  “Fairly well, wid the hepa Gawd, suh.”

  Taylor shook hands with a tall, fat white man in a blue serge suit.

  “Its been a long time since Ive seen you, Dan.”

  “Yessuh. It sho has, yo Honah.”

  “Hows Jimmy?”

  “Jus fine, suh.”

  “Thats a fine boy youve got, Dan.”

  “Ahm sho glad yuh think so, suh.”

  “If you raise that boy right he will be a leader of his people some day, Dan.”

  “Thas the one hope of mah life, suh,” said Taylor with deep emotion.

  “May was tellin me youre sick,” said the mayor.

  “Aw, it ain nothin, suh. Jusa summer col, suh.”

  “I didnt mean to bother you if youre sick, Dan.”

  “Thas awright
, suh. Ahm feelin much bettah now, suh.”

  “Oh, youll pull through all right; itll take a lot more than a summer cold to kill old war-horses like you and me, eh, Dan?”

  The mayor laughed and winked.

  “Ahm hopin Gawd spares me a few mo years, suh,” said Taylor.

  “But at least you look all right now,” said the mayor. “Say, Dan, I want you to meet Chief Bruden. This is Dan, Chief, the boy I was telling you about.”

  “How yuh, Mistah Chief?” asked Taylor.

  A black cigar burned red in Bruden’s mouth. He shifted his thin body and growled:

  “Hello, boy.”

  “And, Dan, this is Mr. Lowe, head of our fine Industrial Squad.”

  “How yuh, suh?” asked Taylor.

  Lowe nodded with half-closed eyes.

  “Sit down, Dan,” said the mayor.

  “Yessuh.”

  Taylor sat on the edge of a chair and rested his palms lightly on his knees.

  “Maybe our little visit is a surprise, hunh?” asked the mayor.

  “Yessuh. It is. But Ahm glad to be of any hep Ah kin, suh.”

  “Good! I knew youd talk that way. Now, Dan, we want you to help us. Youre a responsible man in this community; thats why we are here.”

  “Ah tries t do mah duty as Gawd shows it t me, suh.”

  “Thats the spirit, Dan!” The mayor patted Taylor’s knee. “Now, Im going to be perfectly frank with you, Dan.” The mayor peeled a wrapper from a black cigar. “Here, have one.”

  “Thank yuh, suh.” Taylor put the cigar into his vest pocket. “Ahll smoke it aftah dinner, suh.”

  There was a silence during which the three white men looked at Taylor.

  “Dan,” began the mayor, “its not every nigger Id come to and talk this way. Its not every nigger Id trust as Im about to trust you.” The mayor looked straight at Taylor. “Im doing this because Ive faith in you. Ive known you for twenty-five years, Dan. During that time I think Ive played pretty fair with you, havent I?”

  Taylor swallowed.

  “Ahll have t say yuh have, yo Honah.”

  “Mister Lowe and the Chief here had another plan,” said the mayor. “But I wouldnt hear of it. I told them Id work this thing my way. I thought my way would be much better. After all, Dan, you and I have worked together in the past and I dont see why we cant work together now. Ive backed you up in a lot of things, Dan. Ive backed you even when other white folks said you were wrong. But I believe in doing the right thing. After all, we are human beings, arent we?”