Such Sweet Thunder (22 page)

“We’ll eat just as soon as he comes.” She frowned as she scooped a spoonful of margarine into the potatoes. “Butter’s so expensive! Almost had to fight over the chicken. Gittin’ so I don’ know
what
to cook with the money we got comin’ in. Wash your hands and set the table.”

He washed his hands and set the table. Just as he finished he heard his father running up the steps. Seconds later he burst into the kitchen and picked his mother up by the waist and whirled her around and around.

“Rutherford Jones! Are you blowin’ your top?” she exclaimed with feigned displeasure. He kissed her, and Amerigo looked away with a sudden feeling of embarrassment. Unable to control himself, he ran up to them and forced himself in between them and grabbed his mother around the waist and hugged her.

“If you two want your grub on the table you better let me go so I kin cook it!”

“Hi, boy!” Rutherford exclaimed, releasing Viola. He grinned and buried his face in his mother’s stomach.

“All right — what is it?” Viola demanded, freeing herself from his embrace. “Did you git paid for a change? It’s almost a week now since he promised you.”

“The elevator broke down!” said Rutherford.

“What’s that got to do with the price a tomatoes?”

Rutherford sat down at the table, his face glowing with excitement. Like when he tells about Uncle Ruben, Amerigo thought, taking a seat at the opposite end of the table, waiting, while Viola leaned against the drainboard, looking at Amerigo with an air of expectation.

“You know, Babe, the way old man Mac is when somethin’s happened? Miss Studholt come runnin’ in the office ’bout to have a baby ’cause the elevator broke down, throwin’ ’er hands all ’round ’cause we got all those convention folks — an’-an’ no elevator! Ha! M-a-n, she sure was excited! Bill told me all about it afterward. They couldn’ git no electrician ’cause it was Sund’y, an’ even if they did git one it’d cost ’um double time — you know how those unions are.”

“Yeah,” said Viola.

“An even then it’d take ’um at least a hour before they got there.

“ ‘God damned!’ The old man cried, an’ bit down on that cigar, Jack. Ahhhha! When he bites down on that rope look out! He looked up at her from under those bushy eyebrows — I kin just see ’im now — like a gen’ral, gittin’ ready to send a division into battle!

“ ‘Git Rutherford Jones!’ he said an’ walked
out
. Left Miss Studholt an’ a-l-l those people standin’ there with they bags an’ ever’thin’!

“ ‘But Rutherford ain’ no electrician!’ she tried to tell ’im. The housekeeper told me that. An’ Bill was lookin’ a-l-l over the hotel, tryin’ to find me. I was in three-seventeen, ol’ lady Wilks’s apartment, changin’ the screen in ’er window.

“ ‘Git Rutherford Jones!’ he said, an’ that was all, Jack! Old Bill come runnin’ up to me an’ said, Man the old man’s about to bust a gut! The elevator’s gone an’ the whole joint’s about to go up in smoke!

“ ‘What kinda jive you puttin’ down, man?’ I asked ’im. ‘I ain’ no electrician.’

“ ‘That’s what old lady Studhoss told ’im, but you know the old man. Git Rutherford Jones, he told ’er, an’ then she told me, an’ now I’m tellin’ you what the man said. You go down an’ tell ’im you ain’ no electrician! It’s all in your lap, daddy. You know these Jews ain’ gonna pay no double time to no electrician when they kin git a boot to do it for nothin’! Hee! hee!’

“He was just a laughin’!” Rutherford continued. “An’ when I gits
down to the lobby it was all crowded with people an’ the old man was out on the porch, lookin’ across the street with his back turned on ’um. His hat was down over ’is eyes, an’ he was chewin’ on that stogie, deep in thought, Jack!

“ ‘Mister Mac,’ I says, ‘you sent for me?’ He turned ’round. ‘Ah, Rutherford!’ An’ then all business-like: ‘Rutherford, the elevator’s on the blink. God damned! I just had those fellas in to look at it a couple a weeks ago — you remember — and now look what’s happened. You think you kin git us out a this mess?’ He looked up at me with those eyes all the time, you see.

“ ‘I don’ know, Mister Mac,’ I said, lookin’ back at ’im, Jack. ‘You know, Rutherford,’ he said, ‘I got enemies all around me. That old bitch in there’ — talkin’ ’bout Miss Studholt! Ha! ha! — ‘that woman’s grabbin’ ever’ dime she kin lay hold a. The bank’s on my neck — I don’t have to tell you that, you make the payments yourself.’ An’ then he broke off an’ give me one a those confidence looks: ‘You ain’ been paid yet, have you, Rutherford?’ he says. ‘Naw, sir,’ I said. ‘Well,’ he said, ‘we’ll have to try an’ take care a you. Now I want you to take a pair a pliers an’ go down there an’ see what you kin do for me. You’re the only man I kin trust around here.’

“Take a pair a pliers!” Rutherford exclaimed. “Did you git that, Babe? That’s his word, take a pair a pliers! Sometimes I think that old man takes a pair a pliers with ’im when he goes to bed with old Studhoss!

“ ‘I’ll see what I kin do,’ I said. An’ then I went! I went down there an’ looked at that big generator an’ got s-c-a-i-r-e-d! You know, Babe, I kin fix lights an’-an’ refrigerators an’ stopped-up sinks, or somethin’ like that, but a big high-powered generator? Well, I looked at that thing, and then I sent old Bill up to turn off the current. He was just a peepin’ at me to see what I was gonna do ’cause a shock from that thing’d be enough to wrap it up for a hundred years! Well ol’ Bill went up an’ turned the current off, an’ I started to takin’ things loose. I took the first things first an’-an’ laid ’um aside, all neat-like, noticin’ where they went. Concentratin’, Jack! An’-an’-an’ then, when I got it all apart, I cleaned what was dirty, put in a new part for a old one, took out a whole lot a burned-out wire an’ put a new wire in an’ insulated it good. An’ then — all of a sudden — I seen how it all went together! I understood the whole works! Babe, from then on it was easy! Just like fallin’ off a log! I seen how I had made a mistake. There was one part that should a gone over thataway an’ then come down in between
two little things that was so small I couldn’ hardly see which way they was hooked in. Well, I changed all that. An’ when I done cleaned ever’thin’ — I fixed ever’thin’ I could find, could see, I started to puttin’ it all back tagether agin. I polished it up an’-an’ made it shine like it was new! An’ then I said to Bill: ‘Turn on the juice!’ An’ he turned ’er on. An’ she started up! An’ I climbed up out a the pit an’ went up to the lobby, all greasy an’ ever’thin’. The guests was all standin’ around. An’ then the old man walked up: ‘Did you fix ’er, Rutherford?’ he says. ‘I’m about to have a look now,’ I said, all cool an’ business-like. An’ then I pushed the button! An’ it started to run! S-m-o-o-t-h! You couldn’ hear nothin’ but a clean even hum: the current cuttin’ through them wires!

“The old man looked at me, an’ then he looked at them, an’ then he said, an’ I mean out loud! ‘That’s Rutherford Jones, a man you can depend on. Fine work Jones!’ An’ then he bit down on that stogie an’ that was all, Jack!”

Viola frowned. “But he didn’t pay you, did he? We can’t eat praise! If you was a white man you’d have a hotel of your own! Instead a slavin’ for somebody else — an’ for nothin’! When things get better agin you oughtta quit and find yourself a good job.”

“Aw Babe, he’s gonna straighten me.” Rutherford’s eyes grew vacant. “It sure would be nice to have a little hotel, though. I could even run that one better’n they runnin’ it now. But I’d have to change the setup. I’d break up all those big old rooms and make kitchenettes out of ’um, and have about two floors of transients. An’ right there in town, too! It’s comin’, Babe. You wait an’ see. It’s gotta come! People can’t afford those big old rooms and apartments no more an’ have to eat in restaurants. An’ there’s that b-i-g ballroom downstairs, goin’ to waste. All that room — just sittin’ there an’ ain’ bein’ used.”

“Your bright ideas ain’ gonna do you no good, Rutherford Jones. Ten years from now, you’ll still be in that old hotel. Old dependable Rutherford! Doin’ any and ever’thin’ they say, workin’ Sund’ys, workin’ nights — for twelve lousy dollars a week! It’s a crime! An’ you fool enough to do it!”

“The old man’d stake me, I think.”

“You
think!”

“I bet he would, if I asked him.”

“Why don’t you
do it
, then?”

“It ain’ the right time. Things is too tough — with the depression an’
all. I’ll wait and ask ’im right, Jack! I wouldn’ even need a hotel, a six-family flat wouldn’ be so bad — with a nice big lawn. I’d keep it shinin’ and the grass cut, and plenty a pretty flowers all ’round, and only rent to folks with class, Jack! Out south, around Twenty-Fourth, Twenty-Sixth Street where it’s quiet an’ peaceful.”

Viola, having finished the potatoes, put the chicken in the skillet of hot grease.

“Wash your hands, you two, so we kin eat in a little while.”

He sat through a quiet thoughtful meal. Rutherford spoke further of the six-family flat and of all the things he would like to have. “And maybe a shotgun to go huntin’, an’ a little car, a Ford, an’ ol’ Amerigo could go to college an’ mix with the bigshots out south an’ git ’im one a them high-yellah gals to marry.”

“An’ each one with his own room to put his own things in,” added Viola.

“An’ old Vi kin buy a new dress every day! Boy, your momma sure would love that. Amerigo, that gal loves clothes! I ain’ kiddin’! Always did — even when she was just a little girl. Came to school all spick-an’-span, ’er hair all straightened nice, full a ribbons, an’ c-l-e-a-n! She’d take a bath twice a day! I ain’ kiddin’! An’ a-l-w-a-y-s lookin’ in store windows. You know I don’ make much, but that gal’s got a closet full a clothes. I’m scaired to look in the closet half the time. She’ll work like a dog — do hair an’ sew — save every penny for a year just so she kin buy somethin’ nice. An’ you see all the nice things we got? Yeah, we’re poor, an’ we ain’ actually got much, but we wouldn’ have that much if it wasn’ for her. She’ll take chances. Ain’ scaired a nothin’! But I won’t! I always think: Maybe we can’t pay, or what if we get sick or somethin’? But your momma don’ never git sick. Even when she does, gits a cold or somethin’, or has female troubles, she don’ go to bed. She damned near gave me pneumonia last year just breathin’ down my back! Ha! Ha! Haw! haw!”

“Rutherford Jones!”

“That’s
right
, Amerigo. Look at ’er the way she’s built. Straight, Jack! She’s always been like that. Nigg-jokers usta call ’er The Little Soldier! Who was that li’l niggah that started all the niggahs to callin’ you that, Babe?”

“Aw, I forgit.”

“She breathes, Amerigo! Takes one breath to my three. I ain’ kiddin’. That’s why she’s so strong! You know what she kin do? We kin go out an’ dance down to the bricks! An’ I mean d-a-n-c-e, an’ her drinkin’
right along with me. An’ after a while I git tired an’ sleepy, but she don’ n-e-v-e-r git tired! ’Er eyes don’ even git red! They just shine a little. Even when she eats ’er stomach don’t git fat like mine or most people’s — it gits h-a-r-d. Feel ’er stomach, if you think I’m lyin’. An’ then after ballin’ an’ partyin’ till two or three o’clock in the mornin’ she kin git up at the crack a seven an’ go to work, an’ really work, I mean! An’ never miss a lick! An’ she ain’ all mean an’ evil when she comes home, neither. An’ if it’s somethin’ goin’ on the next night, she kin do it a-l-l o-v-e-r
agin!
B-o-y, your momma kin go!

“You know what? With
her
ability an’ imagination an’ all, she could have a shop, dressin’ hair. She’s as good as any of ’um —
better!
An’ ain’ never had a lesson!”

“I just watch ’um,” said Viola enthusiastically, “to see how they do it, an’ after a few minutes I got it down pat. I always could do that!”

“She could have a shop. Hairdressin’. No kiddin’, an’ run it down to the bricks! An’ you,” turning to Amerigo, “could really git educated! With Latin an’ Greek maybe. Hey! hey! Be a high-powered lawyer or a doctor. You’d make a good ’un — the way you kin make excuses to git around your momma!”

Viola looked at Rutherford with a dreamy smile.

Amerigo looked out the kitchen door. The sun shone warmly, lazily. The alley was quiet the way it always was on Sunday. Viola laid her hand on his arm.

“You kin go when you git ready. But don’ stay all day. I don’ wannto have to come down there an’ git you.”

“Yes’m.”

“Where’s he goin’?” asked Rutherford from the threshold of the middle room door.

“You know you said he could go to the show taday.”

“Hot dog! That’s right! Well, run along, sonny, an’ enjoy yourself.”

“Yessir.” He rose from the table and started for the door.

“Wait a minute!” cried Viola. “You ain’ goin’ to the show without washin’ your face, are you?”

“No’m.”

She dampened the washcloth and rubbed his face with it. “Go an’ git the comb.” He went and got the comb, and she combed his hair and brushed it back with her hand, and wet the tip of her forefinger and smoothed his eyebrows back. And then, looking him over from head to foot: “An’ when you git to the avenue don’ forgit what I told you an’ cross at the corner. Look both ways first. An’ don’ run! Stay on
that
side a the street. An’ don’ stop to talk to nobody, just keep goin’ where you goin’. An’ don’t lose your money! Got your handkerchief?”

“Yes’m.”

“Boy!” cried Rutherford from the front room: “Git on out a here! That woman’ll have you here all day!”

He headed through the shoot with his stomach full of Sunday dinner and his head full of Sunday thoughts: running along the black parallel cracks of the Sunday school floor up to the wall where Sister James sat and beyond, where he could not see, into that big place called “the future.” He thought of the day when he would be “a big growed-up man.” And they’ll be proud of me, Mom and Dad and Miss Chapman and Mr. Bowles and the reverend and Mr. T. Wellington Harps.…

He was startled by the knot of faces on the corner of Independence and Campbell Street. He walked across, oblivious to the din of easyflowing traffic, to the people, colors, and smells, deeply absorbed by the world within him.

A splinter of light flickered in his eyes: the sun reflecting upon the shiny surface of the picture of the man in the big white hat on the big white horse whose hooves clawed the air. He smelled the rich aroma of popcorn, heard it popping.