Such Sweet Thunder (54 page)

“Ain’t you hungry?” she asked.

“No’m.”

“Unh!” Rutherford cried.

He wriggled nervously in his chair. After that there was a knock upon the front door.

“Oooo-oo!” cried a feminine voice. It was already advancing through the middle room. “Brother!” said Aunt Nadine, stepping into the kitchen.

“Hi, sister!” said Rutherford.

“You go right on eatin’,” said Aunt Nadine, “don’ let me disturb you. I just thought I’d drop in on you. Don’ never see you at church!” She sat, gasping for breath, upon the proffered chair, the staves of her corset straining against the fabric of her dress like thick veins.

“Get a plate, Amerigo,” said Viola.

“You shouldn’ draw that straitjacket so tight, there, girl!” said Rutherford with a sly grin.

He set the plate on the table before Aunt Nadine.

“Amerigo’s growin’ like a weed!” she said. “Gonna be a man before you know it!” She smiled a fine yellow-toothed smile, while her checks swelled up under her large and rather pretty eyes like two dark brown apples.

That’s Dad’s sister, he thought, observing that her nose and hair were like Rutherford’s, and reflected that his wasn’t, and wondered: How come?

“He’s wearin’ my drawers already!” Rutherford was saying. “Yeah! An’ my socks, too. Viola sneaks an’ gives ’im all my ties. I can’t hardly find a decent rag to wear no more. I’m sure glad that little joker can’t wear my shirts yet!”

“Aw, but
you
ain’ got but
one
, brother!” Aunt Nadine declared, biting into a breast of chicken. “What if you had
three!
Eeeeev’ry time you look around it’s a nickel for this an’ a dime for that an’ a dollar for
the other! It really adds up! An’
then
— after you done made all that sacrifice to feed ’um an’ bring ’um up — they go off an’ leave you!”

“Yeah,” said Rutherford, “that’s part of life, I guess.”

“Church must a run overtime, Nadine,” said Viola, “you’re a little late taday.”

“Scandal, honey.”

“What happened?” Viola asked.

“The reverend had to straighten that fidgety Lucy Mae out! Switchin’ around — showin’ all ’er belongin’s!”

“What’d she do?” Rutherford asked.

“Sung a solo this mornin’, you know — she finally wormed ’er way into the senior choir — an’ she got up there an’ closed ’er eyes, honey, an’ got to swingin’ ’er head an’ ever’thin’ else! Well, sir! She was singin’ like she forgot where she was!”

“What you mean?” Viola asked.

“Well, the reveren’ let ’er finish, an’ then he called ’er down in front a the whole church! This ain’ no nightclub! he said. Gittin’ so you can’t tell the Lord’s music from the devil’s. An’-an’ then he told ’er, when you sing in
this
church, sing from your heart an’ not from your hips!”

“Naw!” Viola exclaimed.

“An’ he’s right, too!” Aunt Nadine declared. “All these cake eaters an’ jitterbugs an’ blues signers singin’ spirituals ever’ whichaway! I think it’s a c-r-y-i-n’ shame!”

“Unh!” said Rutherford. “I bet she sure felt like crawling under a rock!”

“She started cryin’,” said Aunt Nadine. “He told ’er it wasn’ no use cryin’, she’d better be prayin’ to the Lord to purify ’er soul!”

“Ain’ that a killer!” Rutherford exclaimed, “embarrassin’ somebody like that — in front a the
whole
church!”

“He’s right, too!” Aunt Nadine declared heatedly. “A leader ain’ no leader unless he kin speak out the truth before
ever’body!
An’ she wasn’ the only cobweb in the attic this mornin’.” She looked at Amerigo significantly.

“What else happened?” Viola asked.

“They kept the w-h-o-l-e Sund’y school overtime just on account a your son.”

“What did he do?” Rutherford asked gravely. He and Viola looked at Amerigo, who looked into his plate.

“The
star
member of the Sund’y school,” said Aunt Nadine, “ain’ even been baptized, ain’ a
real
member of the church, ain’ no Christian!”

A dead silence descended upon the room. He looked at his mother and at his father and at his aunt, all of whose gazes settled upon the lower levels of the room, as though they were searching for the answer to the mystery there.

“Mine ain’ no better’n yourn,” Aunt Nadine was saying to herself. “Lord knows I try to git ’um to go to church but they just won’ go. An’ Charley, he won’ help me none.”

“That boy’s been goin’ to that church — ever since he’s been big enough to walk!” Rutherford said angrily.

“But he ain’ never been
christened!
” said Aunt Nadine. “Never been
baptized
. An’ if you ain’ been
christened
an’ you ain’ been
baptized
you ain’ been born, you ain’
nothin’
or
nobody!
You walkin’ in
sin!
An’ then, when they
did
extend the invitation to join, this young man
refused!
”

“He’s
right!
” Rutherford exclaimed with trembling lips. “He don’
have to
join nobody’s church till he gits
damned good an’ ready!
An’ I don’ care if he
never
joins the da-gum church! You supposed to join the church
of your own free will
, not ’cause they
embarrass
you to death! Pointin’ at you, an’ makin’ you stand up in front a ever’body, like a damned fool! Make you think all the sin in the whole world is your fault. If
I
was Jesus Christ —”

“Watch out there, now, brother!” cried Aunt Nadine.

“Naw! if I was
God
I wouldn’
want
nobody to follow me just ’cause I had to browbeat ’um!”

“I know, brother!” said Aunt Nadine.

“You know what, Nadine? You think just ’cause you
live
up there in that damned church you goin’ to heaven?”

“I know — you a hard one,” said Aunt Nadine, “but the Lord’s gonna punish you one a these days, you just mark my word.”

“I’m punished
already!
What
more
kin the Lord do to me! I’m a black man in a white man’s world. I could just as well be dead, an’ you givin’ me all that jive ’bout the
Lord
ain’ gonna make no difference —”

“There’s freedom in the Lord, Rutherford,” said Aunt Nadine.

“There’s freedom for
you
in the Lord,” said Rutherford. “The only freedom
I’m
ever gonna know is what I find in
myself
, in thinkin’, an’ under
standin
’ things an’ —”

“You’ll pay for those words one a these days, Rutherford Jones,” said Aunt Nadine. “Amerigo’s gonna grow up an’ break your heart an’ it’s all gonna be your
own
fault! Why — already he’s switchin’ an’ struttin’ like a man! A smooth talker! Got a word for ever’body. I see
’im, all right. Hat all cocked on the side of his head, walkin’ down the street like a proud cock!”

“Ain’ no child in that church that’s better thought a than Amerigo!” said Viola with deep emotion. “He goes to church every Sund’y! An’ he ain’ no liar an’ he ain’ never been in no trouble.”

“Kin I go now, Mom?”

“Goin’ to the show — on
Sund’y!
” exclaimed Aunt Nadine.

“I’m goin’ to the
art
gallery!”

“He goes
every
Sund’y,” said Viola with a triumphant twinkle in her eyes.

“Yeah,” said Rutherford, “he’s
the only one
— the only spade in the whole joint. An’ he’s
accepted
, too! Holds his head up an’ don’ take no crap from nobody! ’Cause he’s got
class!
I ain’ like that. You an’ none a us was like that, but he’s got it!”

“So that’s what the rage is now!” said Aunt Nadine, “Yeah, well, we’ll see what happens. A reg’ler young man!”

“Go on, son,” said Rutherford tenderly, and he fled.

“I hear old Basil Rathbone’s got a sweetie!” said Rutherford.

“Who?” Amerigo declared. “Aaaaaaaaw!”

“Look at that little joker blush, Babe! Hey! hey! A lady’s man!”

“ ’Mer’go loves Max — ee — een! ’Mer’go loves Max — ee — een!”
cried Willie Joe’s voice.

“Aw-naw I don’!”

“Aw yeah, you do!” cried Lem. “I saw you in the show Frid’y night! Just a kissin’ on ’er an’ squeezin’ ’er titties!”

“Aaaaaaaaw, you sure kin tell ’um!”

“
You
sure kin tell ’um!” Turner cried. “She had ’er hand in that cat’s pocket!”

“Hot dog!” William cried. “Look at ol’ ’Mergo! Got him a sweet patooty!”

“I ain’ studyin’ you, man!”

“Well, it won’ be long now,” Rutherford was saying, “look up one a these days an’ he’ll have one a these little gals in a fam’ly way an’ you’ll be a grandma, Vi. Ha! ha! An’ sal-t-a-y!”

“Aaaaaw, naw he won’!” Viola exclaimed. “That boy’s gonna finish high school an’ go to college an’ amount to somethin’.”

“I ain’ never never never gonna git married!” he exclaimed. “I’m
gonna go to college an’ git-get to be some ’un b-i-g — a real big shot an’ make a whole lot a money! An’- and then I’m going to buy you an-d Dad a pretty house with grass in the front
and
in the back, and a —”

“A private room!” said Viola, “for each one where he kin put his own things —”

“Yeah,” said Rutherford, “with a din, with tools an’ things to make things. An’ maybe a little boat to go fishin’.”

“An’ a Ford to pull it!” he exclaimed. “They have the fastest pickup!”

“How do
you
know?” Rutherford exclaimed. “You can’t even drive.”

“I know!”

“That sure would be nice, all right.…” Rutherford said.

“You could have a six-family flat — a hotel even!” Amerigo continued. “I could run it for you. We could git old, an’ lie up an’ git f-a-t! Hey! hey!”

“Not me!” Viola exclaimed. “None a that gittin’-fat jive for
me!
”

“I’m gonna be in Miss Tucker’s class next year!” he said.

“I see in the
Voice
where she’s supposed to be retirin’,” said Rutherford. “A new teacher’s comin’, a little yellah gal named Sparks.”

“Aw naw she ain’!”

“I read it, muckle-head!”

“I don’ care!” he muttered under his breath. A feeling of rage made his lips tremble.

“Tommy’s done left you,” Viola said. “Goin’ to R. T. Bowles already.”

“Ain’ that somethin’,” said Rutherford. “I was down on the avenue the other evenin’ — an’ didn’ see
nobody
I knowed! Like somethin’ swallowed ever’body up. An’ the avenue’s just half a block away! I bet you I ain’ been down there more’n, more’n three times in the past year!”

“All a
our
friends are out south,” said Viola. “If, if it wasn’ for Amerigo, we wouldn’ even know the neighbors. Ever’where you look there’s nothin’ but winos and hus’lers. Mister Harrison’s out on Twenty-Ninth Street now. Got his
own
house. Allie said she saw Mrs. Harrison at church Sund’y an’ she sure looked nice.”

“Did you find some pretty wallpaper for the paperin’?” Rutherford asked.

“You know old lady Crippa! She found the cheapest paper she could find — an’
then
had the nerve to talk about
us
payin’ for half of it!”

“Ain’ that a shame!”

“Well, we been here for so long. We wasn’ nothin’ but babies ourselves when we came. This boy’s already eleven, an’ we’re twenty-six … seven!” Her glance fell upon the table. “Yeah! She figures she kin do whatever she wants. Can’t blame ’er, though, she’s been gittin’-getting away with it for so long! She’ll be asking for more rent next.”

“
I’ll
be dang!” Rutherford exclaimed.

“Yeah! She’s already complainin’ about prices goin’ up. Times are gittin’ a little better, but they still tight.”

“We oughtta stop lettin’ that woman run over us. We oughtta move, that’s what we oughtta do!”

“You been sayin’ that for almost twelve years!” Viola exclaimed with laughing eyes.

“Has it been that long?”

“Will be next year. Take a look at your son.”

“Will you look at this cat?” Rutherford exclaimed. “Big as me!

Graduatin’! Unh! That new principal’s sure puttin’ ’um through. Hot damn! He’s even got old Amerigo gittin’ to school on time! An’ I ain’ had to look at that joker’s homework since he came!”

“An’ Amerigo — an’ all of ’um’s crazy about ’im, too! But he don’ take no jive!”

He’s like Dad, Amerigo thought, only he’s a little lighter — and he’s got a good education. But he isn’t any smarter!

“Very soon now, you’re going to be graduating from Garrison School,” he heard Principal Powell saying. He stood before the class on a thoughtful afternoon when the mellow glow from the lamp overhead warmed the cloudy light that filtered in through the windows. He could see its reflection in the rimless glasses that he removed from his eyes as he rubbed the pink depression in the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger.

“I’m gonna git-get me some glasses like that! In —
tel
— a — gent!”

“Very soon now, you’re going to be graduating from Garrison School. Most of you can read and write a little, and you’re supposed to be able to do a little arithmetic.”

He shifted his glance to the gray window.

“But that’s only the beginning. You don’t really
know
anything yet.

Why — that’s hardly even a beginning! There’s geometry and algebra and calculus, beyond which begins the poetry and drama of numbers, the abstract symbols of space, time, and movement! And then there’s history — the history of the whole human race! Behind
and
ahead of
you. White or black, you’re a part of the human family. You’re a part of everything that lives, and everything that lives is a part of you.

“Many sincere and brilliant men have written the record of their lives, their thoughts, their discoveries, down on paper. Their writings comprise the literatures of the world. Literature is just another way of talking, of discussing, in order to find out what is good, what is true, what is beautiful. These are the questions in life that should come to mean the most to you in the end, no matter what you aspire to be, no matter what you study. A good education is just a tool that helps you to design and build your thoughts in a clear, orderly, and beautiful way. If you expect to do beautiful work, you have to keep your tools sharp, and you have to master the use of them. The more you know, the more you see, and the more you can see the greater your possibilities of understanding perhaps the one thing that is the most important,
yourself
, and your relationship to the world in which you live.