Native Son (12 page)

“I’m all right, now, Jan,” he heard Mary say. “I’m sorry. I’m just a fool, I suppose…. I acted a ninny.” She lifted her eyes to Bigger. “Don’t mind me, Bigger. I’m just silly, I guess….”

He said nothing.

“Come on, Bigger,” Jan said in a voice that sought to cover up everything. “Let’s eat.”

Jan caught his arm and tried to pull him forward, but Bigger hung back. Jan and Mary walked toward the entrance of the cafe and Bigger followed, confused and resentful. Jan went to a small table near a wall.

“Sit down, Bigger.”

Bigger sat. Jan and Mary sat in front of him.

“You like fried chicken?” Jan asked.

“Yessuh,” he whispered.

He scratched his head. How on earth could he learn not to say
yessuh
and
yessum
to white people in one night when he had been saying it all his life long? He looked before him in such a way that his eyes would not meet theirs. The waitress came and Jan ordered three beers and three portions of fried chicken.

“Hi, Bigger!”

He turned and saw Jack waving at him, but staring at Jan and Mary. He waved a stiff palm in return. Goddamn! Jack walked away hurriedly. Cautiously, Bigger looked round; the waitresses and several people at other tables were staring at him. They all knew him and he knew that they were wondering as he would have wondered if he had been in their places. Mary touched his arm.

“Have you ever been here before, Bigger?”

He groped for neutral words, words that would convey information but not indicate any shade of his own feelings.

“A few times.”

“It’s very nice,” Mary said.

Somebody put a nickel in an automatic phonograph and they listened to the music. Then Bigger felt a hand grab his shoulder.

“Hi, Bigger! Where you been?”

He looked up and saw Bessie laughing in his face.

“Hi,” he said gruffly.

“Oh, ’scuse me. I didn’t know you had company,” she said, walking away with her eyes upon Jan and Mary.

“Tell her to come over, Bigger,” Mary said.

Bessie had gone to a far table and was sitting with another girl.

“She’s over there now,” Bigger said.

The waitress brought the beer and chicken.

“This is simply grand!” Mary exclaimed.

“You got something there,” Jan said, looking at Bigger. “Did I say that right, Bigger?”

Bigger hesitated.

“That’s the way they say it,” he spoke flatly.

Jan and Mary were eating. Bigger picked up a piece of chicken and bit it. When he tried to chew he found his mouth dry. It seemed that the very organic functions of his body had altered; and
when he realized why, when he understood the cause, he could net chew the food. After two or three bites, he stopped and sipped his beer.

“Eat your chicken,” Mary said. “It’s good!”

“I ain’t hungry,” he mumbled.

“Want some more beer?” Jan asked after a long silence.

Maybe if he got a little drunk it would help him.

“I don’t mind,” he said.

Jan ordered another round.

“Do they keep anything stronger than beer here?” Jan asked.

“They got anything you want,” Bigger said.

Jan ordered a fifth of rum and poured a round. Bigger felt the liquor warming him. After a second drink Jan began to talk.

“Where were you born, Bigger?”

“In the South.”

“Whereabouts?”

“Mississippi.”

“How far did you go in school?”

“To the eighth grade.”

“Why did you stop?”

“No money.”

“Did you go to school in the North or South?”

“Mostly in the South. I went two years up here.”

“How long have you been in Chicago?”

“Oh, about five years.”

“You like it here?”

“It’ll do.”

“You live with your people?”

“My mother, brother, and sister.”

“Where’s your father?”

“Dead.”

“How long ago was that?”

“He got killed in a riot when I was a kid—in the South.”

There was silence. The rum was helping Bigger.

“And what was done about it?” Jan asked.

“Nothing, far as I know.”

“How do you feel about it?”

“I don’t know.”

“Listen, Bigger, that’s what we want to
stop
. That’s what we Communists are fighting. We want to stop people from treating others that way. I’m a member of the Party. Mary sympathizes. Don’t you think if we got together we could stop things like that?”

“I don’t know,” Bigger said; he was feeling the rum rising to his head. “There’s a lot of white people in the world.”

“You’ve read about the Scottsboro boys?”

“I heard about ’em.”

“Don’t you think we did a good job in helping to keep ’em from killing those boys?”

“It was all right.”

“You know, Bigger,” said Mary, “we’d like to be friends of yours.”

He said nothing. He drained his glass and Jan poured another round. He was getting drunk enough to look straight at them now. Mary was smiling at him.

“You’ll get used to us,” she said.

Jan stoppered the bottle of rum.

“We’d better go,” he said.

“Yes,” Mary said. “Oh, Bigger, I’m going to Detroit at nine in the morning and I want you to take my small trunk down to the station. Tell father and he’ll let you make up your time. You better come for the trunk at eight-thirty.”

“I’ll take it down.”

Jan paid the bill and they went back to the car. Bigger got behind the steering wheel. He was feeling good. Jan and Mary got into the back seat. As Bigger drove he saw her resting in Jan’s arms.

“Drive around in the park awhile, will you, Bigger?”

“O.K.”

He turned into Washington Park and pulled the car slowly round and round the long gradual curves. Now and then he watched Jan kiss Mary in the reflection of the rear mirror above his head.

“You got a girl, Bigger?” Mary asked.

“I got a girl,” he said.

“I’d like to meet her some time.”

He did not answer. Mary’s eyes stared dreamily before her, as if she were planning future things to do. Then she turned to Jan and laid her hand tenderly upon his arm.

“How was the demonstration?”

“Pretty good. But the cops arrested three comrades.”

“Who were they?”

“A Y. C. L.-er and two Negro women. Oh, by the way, Mary. We need money for bail badly.”

“How much?”

“Three thousand.”

“I’ll mail you a check.”

“Swell.”

“Did you work hard today?”

“Yeah. I was at a meeting until three this morning. Max and I’ve been trying to raise bail money all day today.”

“Max is a darling, isn’t he?”

“He’s one of the best lawyers we’ve got.”

Bigger listened; he knew that they were talking Communism and he tried to understand. But he couldn’t.

“Jan.”

“Yes, honey.”

“I’m coming out of school this spring and I’m going to join the Party.”

“
Gee
, you’re a brick!”

“But I’ll have to be careful.”

“Say, how’s about your working with me, in the office?”

“No, I want to work among Negroes. That’s where people are needed. It seems as though they’ve been pushed out of every thing.”

“That’s true.”

“When I see what they’ve done to those people, it makes me
so
mad….”

“Yes; it’s awful.”

“And I feel so helpless and useless. I want to
do
something.”

“I knew all along you’d come through.”

“Say, Jan, do you know many Negroes? I want to meet some.”

“I don’t know any very well. But you’ll meet them when you’re in the Party.”

“They have so much
emotion
! What a people! If we could ever get them going….”

“We can’t have a revolution without ’em,” Jan said. “They’ve got to be organized. They’ve got spirit. They’ll give the Party something it needs.”

“And their songs—the spirituals! Aren’t they marvelous?” Bigger saw her turn to him. “Say, Bigger, can you sing?”

“I can’t sing,” he said.

“Aw, Bigger,” she said, pouting. She tilted her head, closed her eyes and opened her mouth.

Jan joined in and Bigger smiled derisively. Hell, that ain’t the tune, he thought.

“Come on, Bigger, and help us sing it,” Jan said.

“I can’t sing,” he said again.

They were silent. The car purred along. Then he heard Jan speaking in low tones.

“Where’s the bottle?”

“Right here.”

“I want a sip.”

“I’ll take one, too, honey.”

“Going heavy tonight, ain’t you?”

“About as heavy as you.”

They laughed. Bigger drove in silence. He heard the faint, musical gurgle of liquor.

“Jan!”

“What?”

“That was a
big
sip!”

“Here; you get even.”

Through the rear mirror he saw her tilt the bottle and drink.

“Maybe Bigger wants another one, Jan. Ask him.”

“Oh, say, Bigger! Here; take a swig!”

He slowed the car and reached back for the bottle; he tilted it twice, taking two huge swallows.

“Woooow!” Mary laughed.

“You took a
swig
, all right,” Jan said.

Bigger wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and continued driving slowly through the dark park. Now and then he heard the half-empty bottle of rum gurgling. They getting plastered, he thought, feeling the effect of the rum creeping outward to his fingers and upward to his lips. Presently, he heard Mary giggle. Hell, she’s plastered already! The car rolled slowly round and round the sloping curves. The rum’s soft heat was spreading fanwise out from his stomach, engulfing his whole body. He was not driving; he was simply sitting and floating along smoothly through darkness. His hands rested lightly on the steering wheel and his body slouched lazily down in the seat. He looked at the mirror; Mary was lying flat on her back in the rear seat and Jan was bent over her. He saw a faint sweep of white thigh. They plastered, all right, he thought. He pulled the car softly round the curves, looking at the road before him one second and up at the mirror the next. He heard Jan whispering; then he heard them both sigh. Filled with a sense of them, his muscles grew gradually taut. He sighed and sat up straight, fighting off the stiffening feeling in his loins. But soon he was slouched again. His lips were numb. I’m almost drunk, he thought. His sense of the city and park fell away; he was floating in the car and Jan and Mary were in back, kissing, spooning. A long time passed. Jan sat up and pulled Mary with him.

“It’s one o’clock, honey,” Mary said. “I better go in.”

“O.K. But let’s drive a little more. It’s great here.”

“Father says I’m a bad girl.”

“I’m sorry, darling.”

“I’ll call you in the morning before I go.”

“Sure. What time?”

“About eight-thirty.”

“Gee, but I hate to see you go to Detroit.”

“I hate to go too. But I got to. You see, honey, I got to make up for being bad with you down in Florida. I got to do what Mother and Father say for awhile.”

“I hate to see you go just the same.”

“I’ll be back in a couple of days.”

“A couple of days is a long time.”

“You’re silly, but you’re sweet,” she said, laughing and kissing him.

“You better drive on, Bigger,” Jan called.

He swung the car out of the park and headed for Forty-sixth Street.

“I’ll get out here, Bigger!”

He stopped the car. Bigger heard them speak in whispers.

“Good-bye, Jan.”

“Good-bye, honey.”

“I’ll call you tomorrow?”

“Sure.”

Jan stood at the front door of the car and held out his palm. Bigger shook timidly.

“It’s been great meeting you, Bigger,” Jan said.

“O.K.,” Bigger mumbled.

“I’m damn glad I know you. Look. Have another drink.”

Bigger took a big swallow.

“You better give me one, too, Jan. It’ll make me sleep,” Mary said.

“You’re sure you haven’t had enough?”

“Aw, come on, honey.”

She got out of the car and stood on the curb. Jan gave her the bottle and she tilted it.

“Whoa!” Jan said.

“What’s the matter?”

“I don’t want you to pass out.”

“I can hold it.”

Jan tilted the bottle and emptied it, then laid it in the gutter. He fumbled clumsily in his pockets for something. He swayed; he was drunk.

“You lose something, honey?” Mary lisped; she, too, was drunk.

“Naw; I got some stuff here I want Bigger to read. Listen. Bigger, I got some pamphlets here. I want you to read ’em, see?”

Bigger held out his hand and received a small batch of booklets.

“O.K.”

“I really want you to read ’em, now. We’ll have a talk ’bout ’em in a coupla days….” His speech was thick.

“I’ll read ’em,” Bigger said, stifling a yawn and stuffing the booklets into his pocket.

“I’ll see that he reads ’em,” Mary said.

Jan kissed her again. Bigger heard a Loop-bound car rumbling far down the avenue.

“Well, good-bye,” he said.

“Goo’-bye, honey,” Mary said. “I’m gonna ride up front with Bigger.”

She got into the front seat. The street car clanged to a stop. Jan swung onto it and it started north. Bigger drove toward Drexel Boulevard. Mary slumped down in the seat and sighed. Her legs sprawled wide apart. The car rolled along. Bigger’s head was spinning.

“You’re very nice, Bigger,” she said.

He looked at her. Her face was pasty white. Her eyes were glassy. She was very drunk.

“I don’t know,” he said.

“My! But you say the
funniest
things,” she giggled.

“Maybe,” he said.

She leaned her head on his shoulder.

“You don’t mind, do you?”

“I don’t mind.”

“You know, for three hours you haven’t said
yes
or
no
.”

She doubled up with laughter. He tightened with hate. Again she was looking inside of him and he did not like it. She sat up and dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief. He kept his eyes straight in front of him and swung the car into the driveway and brought it to a stop. He got out and opened the door. She did not move. Her eyes were closed.