Tambourines to Glory (17 page)

“Birdie Lee and the Bible
both
your mama wants to see, Marietta.”

“Then I’ll tell them to let her in. And I’ll be back to get you with the lawyer.”

When the turnkey brought Birdie Lee down through the aisle of cells she began to shout
Hallelujahs
even before she saw Essie, and
Bless Gods
and
Amens
. She cried as she stood before the cell, “I have brought the Book. But before I give it to you, Essie, I want to read thereout and therefrom and I want you to listen—Matthew 25—for Sister Essie: ‘I was an hungered, and ye gave me meat. I was thirsty, and ye gave me drink. I was a stranger, and ye took me in.’ In spite of Laura Reed! Sister Essie, the light is the truth, and the truth don’t lie. ‘Naked, and ye clothed me. I was sick, and ye visited me. I was in prison,’ yes, the prison of my sins, ‘and ye came unto me.’ ”

Birdie slapped her hand down on the Bible.

“It’s right here in His holy Word, Essie, how you took me out of the gutter of Lenox Avenue, raised me up to the curbstone of redemption, brought me into your gospel band, and let me shake my tambourine to the glory of God and drum my way to jubilation. Sister Essie, you did that for me! Gangsters or no gangsters, Laura or no Laura, it’s my determination to testify exactly who stuck that knife in Big-Eyed Buddy’s carcass—to take the stand
and tell the truth—for the truth don’t lie! And listen to this text through your bars of sorrow, Sister Essie, for it appears as if these words was writ for you—Matthew 25:40—‘Verily,’ it says here, ‘verily I say unto you, inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the
least
of these’—and I was the least—‘ye have done it unto me!’ Hallelujah! Oh, if I had just brought my tambourine, I would shake it here in jail to God’s glory, to you, Sister Essie, who by your goodness lifted me up out of the muck and mire of Harlem and put my feet on the rock of grace where I, Birdie Lee, can stand and redeem myself of the lies I once told and the souls sent to hell—this time to testify the truth! Praise God, your Honor, Judge Almighty, I’m gonna testify!”

AS IN A DREAM

W
hen the jailers brought her lunch, Essie was reading in her Book the verses Birdie had found for her. She saw in her mind’s eye Laura who had clothed herself in a scarlet robe and had made her buy a white one, and she remembered white being for purity. And she thought, Laura brought me to God, but I was too slothful to save my friend from sin. I did not try hard enough in God’s ways. But I pray now in my heart for Laura.

It seemed almost like a dream, or a scene in a movie, that now a key should turn in the door at the end of the cell block, and the door should open, and clank, and close, and a warden should lead down the aisle a fine frame of a woman with her head down, not looking to the right or the left as she passed, until Essie cried, “Laura!”

There with her hands on the bars, with the bars between them, stood her partner in song. A long pause, then, “Essie, I’m sorry,” Laura whispered hoarsely, “sorry as hell for what I did to you—and with your knife, too. The Law knows now that I did it. I confessed. I might as well. That little rat of a Birdie Lee put the finger on me. I never did like Birdie. But I would have told, anyhow. Believe me or not, Essie, I got down on my knees last night and prayed. I couldn’t sleep for thinking about you in jail, and Buddy dead. The two people I loved most in my life! And the fault mine! I would have told the police anyhow I did it. Essie, can you find it in your heart to just, maybe, pray for me?”

“You’re my friend, Laura. In spite of all, you been my friend. In my heart eternal, I pray for you—and I’ll see that you get a lawyer, too.”

“A dozen lawyers phoned me already this morning. They think I got money. But I took all the hundred-dollar bills I had stashed away in drawers and car pockets and handkerchief boxes, and places, and put them in the bank early this morning when it opened, in the church’s name before the police came to question me. Essie, I’ll come before the bar of justice as poor as I was that night when we left out of that tenement and took our stand for the first time to raise a song on Lenox Avenue. My car, the dealers can take back. It’s not paid for. I have nothing now, Essie, but Jesus—since He comes free.” Laura smiled a wry smile. “Maybe somebody’ll buy me a drink.”

It was a long cell block and they locked Laura in a cell far down at the end of the corridor, so far away that Laura did not hear Essie sobbing. Essie sobbed as quietly as she could, but it was hard for a big woman like Essie to weep so bitterly without a sound.

JUBILATION

“I never shall forget,” cried Essie, “what He’s done for me.”

A thousand people in the temple, and a hundred in the chorus behind her sang.

“Done for all of us,” cried Essie. “Praise His name! All you who helped to make this church, to raise its walls from the curbstone to this rostrum, helped me to buy the first tambourine I ever had in my hand! Tambourine Temple, I want to tell you what, with His help, we’re gonna do. Here on this very corner, I visions me a Rock. Today I seen the contractor. We’re gonna turn that big room downstairs into a pretty day nursery where you mothers that goes to work can leave your children. Oh, Rock of Comfort, free from worry! I seen the real estate man. We’re gonna buy that old building next door and turn it into a clubhouse where you can meet to have your anniversaries and parties and such. Oh, joyful Rock! That empty vacant lot three doors down, we’re gonna turn into an outdoor playground so our teenagers can play basketball in summer and flood it with ice so they can skate in winter. Happy Rock! Oh, friends, so many nice things we’re gonna do for this Harlem of ours with His help! And now, folks, another announcement, my earthly aid from this day on, my staff of youth in this church and in this pulpit, is my daughter, Marietta! She’s going to study next fall at the Lincoln Hospital to be a nurse so she can help me take care of the sick in this church. While I pray with the sick, Marietta can tend them and relieve their pain. Come forward, daughter.”

“Jehovah God!” cried Birdie Lee. “Jehovah God!”

Marietta stepped down shyly from the choir. Essie beamed.

“This is Marietta Johnson. But there’s more I want to tell you about her. She won’t be Johnson long. She will have a helper or he will have his helper, both will help each other, the son of this temple, our son, C.J., to be my son-in-law.”

“Amen!” affirmed the crowd. “God bless them both.” Then silence that Marietta might speak.

“It’s wonderful to be in love with God,” the girl said, “and with this church, with you-all before me, and C.J.”

Essie beckoned C.J. forward to join hands with Marietta. “Now, let them praise God together, and all of us praise God with them—Marietta, C.J.—
our children!
Hit your guitar, son! Let my daughter sing.”

“Shake, tambourines, shake! Help ’em, Crow-For-Day, help ’em! Drum it, Birdie Lee! Drum to the Lord God Jehovah! Drum for the least of His servants, me, Essie Belle Johnson! Halleloo! And, folks—

1. Langston Hughes originally wrote
   Tambourines to Glory
   as a play. If you were to direct a theatrical production of
   Tambourines
   , what elements of direction, scenery, and score would you use to dramatize characters and scenes in the narrative?
   

2. As she is depicted in the beginning of
   Tambourines to Glory
   , would you describe Laura Reed as amoral or
   im
   moral?
   

3. Essie Johnson is portrayed as a humble, pious, and earnest woman. Laura Reed, on the other hand, is hedonistic, selfish, and conniving. How effective are Laura and Essie as foils for each other? Is the stark contrast between the two
   women effective in elucidating each character? Do these portrayals seem realistic or allegorical?
   

4. If Essie worships a trinity of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, what trinity does Laura worship? What are her acts of worship?
   

5. Discuss how Laura appropriates and uses the language of the gospel to support her secret agenda and to defend her behavior.
   

6. Despite her deceitful nature, Laura positively affects the spiritual lives of members of her congregation. Does the moral deficiency of the messenger necessarily detract from the message? Explain.
   

7. Though Essie is portrayed as generally moral and good, she is not without fault and not without blame. What is Essie’s sin? Of what is she guilty? Passivity? Idleness?
   

8. On those occasions when Laura sells bogus holy water to members of the congregation, Essie withdraws from what is going on and meditates. Hughes writes, “Essie’s life had been full of long, long, very long pauses”. What happens when Essie goes into “pause” mode? Do you think her pause is a show of commendable patience and long suffering? Or is it evidence of passivity and listlessness? How can a “pause” mode be a psychological defense mechanism?
   

9. Does Laura’s humor and wit ever soften the harshness of her bad deeds? Did you find Laura to be likable despite her evildoing?
   

10. How does the frequent incorporation of gospel lyrics in
    Tambourines to Glory
    shape or affect the narrative?
    

11. In the opening of
    Tambourines to Glory
    , the women exchange stories about their mothers. Neither woman mentions a father, nor does Essie ever reference her daughter Marietta’s father. What significance does the omission of fathers have for the story?
    

12. Marty is a puppet master of sorts. He is a powerful and well-connected criminal who pulls strings, coerces, and manipulates from behind the scenes—and he is white. What is the effect of having Marty never actually appear in the story? What does Hughes’s second- and thirdhand depiction of Marty—the most significant white character in the story—suggest about the role and function of whites in this largely segregated black community? How are white people generally depicted in (or excluded from)
    Tambourines to Glory?
    

13. How does Buddy transform Laura? Accordingly, how does the introduction of Buddy into the text change the course and tone of the story?
    

14. In what ways does Hughes romanticize and glamorize black life in Harlem? In what ways is he critical of it?