The Nigger Factory (17 page)

27

The House on Pine Street

In the kitchen of Mrs Gilliam's boarding house on Pine Street two other interested observers had watched the six o'clock news on WSVA, the local channel. Mrs Gilliam and her favorite tenant, Zeke Dempsey, were discussing the news report when Earl Thomas barged directly into the kitchen through the back door from the driveway.

‘Well, if it ain't the star of the show,’ Zeke said lightly. ‘How you doin’ stranger? You know Miz Gilliam, I believe.’

‘Yeah. Right. How're you, ma'am? Whuss the put-on?’ Earl asked, sitting down opposite Zeke at the kitchen table. Mrs Gilliam, as usual, was stirring up a concoction at the stove.

‘Well, we see ya so rarely ‘roun’ here,’ Zeke began laughing. ‘Thought it might be a good idea to reintraduce ourselves an’ start all over.’

‘I guess I know what you mean,’ Earl apologized. ‘I'v been rather brief. I came in late last night an’ when I got up Miz Gilliam had already had her breakfast an’ gone to the market. I don’ know if you was at work or what.’

‘I went to rake leaves at the Coles's this mornin’,’ Zeke admitted. ‘I guess that was ‘bout eight.’

‘I was later than that,’ Earl said.

‘I'm usually here, but I went out in the country this mornin’ to get some fresh veg'tables. Me an Old Hunt,’ Mrs Gilliam replied.

‘That car runnin'?’ Zeke asked laughing. The talk in the boarding house generally was that Old Man Hunt's Dodge wouldn't run downhill.

‘Didn't go too fast,’ Mrs Gilliam laughed, waddling back over to the table. ‘Every time we did above forty or so it start coughin’ like a tubercular, but did all right.’

‘Fresh veg'tables?’ Earl asked picking up the lost thread.

‘Had to, child,’ Mrs Gilliam mocked. ‘Sto’ bought veg'tables start to tas’ like wax after while. I hate to go to the country ‘cause it generally take so long after you talk to them ‘bout everything thass happened since you las’ saw them, but I had bought this oxtail for some oxtail soup an’ I couldn’ see the point in havin’ it without havin’ some good veg'tables.’ She took the top off the large pot with a potholder. The warm, tantalizing fragrance of oxtail escaped from what Earl referred to as ‘the cauldron.’

‘Heard school been closed down,’ Zeke said offhand.

‘Yeah,’ Earl said quietly. ‘I was out there all day tryin’ to get different things together. We called the head of the Board of Trustees in D.C., but she was so busy talkin about how great “Brother” Calhoun was that I knew I wouldn’ get anywhere. Then we printed notices an’ put ‘um in faculty boxes callin’ a Faculty Only meetin’ for in the mornin’, but I don't know what I'll say if we have it. The things that we had in mind aren't really relevant any more.’

‘Calhoun took care of that,’ Zeke said.

‘I s'pose it was my fault,’ Earl said. ‘I'm sure that most of the overall picture is my fault, but it seems that I should know better than to think Calhoun will take a long time to move by now. I should've been expectin’ him to close school down when I handed him the paper las’ night.’

‘I don’ think you're right this time at all, Earl,’ Zeke said quietly. ‘Now I know I'm not a college man like yo'self an’ I have always regretted that I wasn't, even if I hadn't had any particular use fo’ a degree in the kinda work I'm doin’ now,’ the handyman smiled. ‘But many's the person has tol’ me that I'm blessed with what I call common sense, good ol’ horse sense. I believe that along with the bookin’ that you have done God gave you some horse sense also. None of the other school presidents have reacted so quickly to their protests like Calhoun. I don't think there was any way for any person to predict that he would do that . . . I think sometimes you try to carry more than your share . . .’

‘Amen,’ said Mrs Gilliam.

Earl was sitting opposite Zeke and looking out of the window. He hadn't looked at his friend and fellow-boarder once, but it was obvious that the words were having their effect.

‘You know it's not but so much that one man can do,’ Zeke continued. ‘It's not but so much that one man should do . . . you know I heard you talkin’ las’ week ‘bout how you had to hurry to get them papers together because the students were expectin’ them an’ would be on yo’ back.’

‘That was about keepin’ my word,’ Earl said, interrupting and lighting a cigarette. ‘I was . . .’ the young man cut himself off. He began to feel as if he were becoming defensive though he didn't feel a need to be defensive with Mrs Gilliam and/or Zeke.

‘You remember what I'm talkin’ about?’ Zeke asked, lighting a smoke of his own. ‘Na mebbe this thing today an’ las’ night has got somethin’ to do with yo’ not havin’ yo’ papers done, but how many a them was helpin’ do the work? I mean aside from the two friends who come by here?’

‘Nobody really,’ Earl admitted.

‘An’ yet they wuz the ones you
knew
wuz gonna be on yo’ back,’ the handyman said laughing. ‘The firs’ complainers an’ the las’ workers. Thass been a problem wit’ Negroes forever an’ a day in the United States. The firs’ complainers an’ the las’ workers.’

‘I had things I was s'pose to do,’ Earl said, refusing to see the point.

‘Right!’ Zeke agreed. ‘But the whole thing is that you would have done yo’ work an’ been in the same situation. You'd be still the only one doin’ any. Martin Luther King did his work. Malcolm X did his work. But when they died the movements that they started died.’

‘Oh, man,’ Earl exclaimed.

‘All I'm sayin’ really is that you were workin’ for a buncha ingrates who wouldn’ appreciate you if this was yo’ thing by yourself. That with a li'l help you mighta made it . . . what I
mean is that you always blamin’ yo'self somehow no matter what happens. You ain’ never gonna make it through life that way. It's all right to take yo’ responsibilities seriously. It's the bes’ thing in the world for a man if he's gonna be a man, but you gonna fin’ that yo’ responsibilities are gonna be enough without you takin’ on what people should be volunteerin’ to share since it's for everybody's own good.’

‘I agree,’ Mrs Gilliam said. ‘How're your grades? I bet you don't have a point in none of ‘um. When was the las’ time you wrote yo’ mother? I bet she don't know nothin’ ‘bout this foolishness. You still ain’ been to see Dr Bennett about that tooth I gave you that stuff for . . . you see what I mean? Neglectin’ yo’ own good for a bunch that won't even help you. I know that Sutton crowd. They always have upper-class students who're too lazy to work.’

‘Middle-class niggers,’ Zeke said. ‘The Deltas an’ A.K.A.’s an’ Alpha niggers who wouldn’ know a job if it bit ‘um. Thass the kind you wastin’ yo’ time on.’

‘I don't agree,’ Earl said. He lit another cigarette as he got up. ‘You know when you get a job what it entails. You know that a great many students don’ know anything about the campus politics an’ that most of the res’ don’ care. You take on the job ‘cause you have a certain set of ideas that you'd like to implement for the good of the community.’

‘An’ what if the community won’ help you?’

‘Thass not the point. They do somethin’ when they elect you.’

‘Write a X nex’ to yo’ name on a piece a paper. I think . . .’

‘I don't agree,’ Earl said cutting in brusquely. He was standing with his back turned to Zeke and Mrs Gilliam watching more of the red and brown leaves being added to a small fire in the middle of the back yard. He always felt he was watching something beautiful when he saw Old Man Hunt putter around in the yard. At that moment the warm glow of the fire illuminating the old man's face seemed to disclose some secret pleasure that was causing a smile to
creep across the burnished wrinkles. ‘I know that this talk was staged to make me feel better or somethin’, but I don't feel the same way.’

‘It wasn't meant that way at all,’ Zeke said. He met Mrs Gilliam's questioning glance with a quieting gesture indicating that he would handle it. ‘I'm quite sure that Miz Gilliam an’ I would need a whole lot mo’ facts befo’ we started to tell you what to do, but we've been watchin’ you go through these months of work an’ school an’ we'd been talkin’ about how wrapped up you get in the things you feel need to be done.’

‘The people at Sutton elected me to do a job,’ Earl reminded them. ‘Anything else is a cop-out.’

‘It's good to be committed to yo’ race,’ Zeke said. ‘Miz Gilliam will tell you that as ol’ as I am I wuz right out there wit ‘um in Selma in sixty-four. I was doin’ all I could with the NAACP right here . . . an’ one a the things that held me back in terms of maybe leadin’ in the community was the fact that I didn’ have much education. Both of us feel that you can be a great man in terms of helpin’ our people an’ that the thing you really need is yo’ diploma.’

Earl turned around very quickly. Somehow he had been missing the point all through his conversation with the handyman. He was amazed to see why Zeke had been so persistent and had not let the subject drop. Zeke had seen the news. He had heard about the closing and the readmission program. He and Mrs Gilliam would easily see that if this were carried out that he would not be admitted. Zeke was asking him to back down.

‘You can't think I'd go to Calhoun,’ Earl said.

‘No,’ Zeke said, taking up the cup of coffee that Mrs Gilliam placed before him. ‘I didn't think you would. But you should. I believe you should.’

‘Earl's response to that was cut off by the jingling of the phone in the hallway. He waved Mrs Gilliam away and moved through the hall to answer it, discarding his sweater as he went.

‘Mrs Gilliam's,’ he said. ‘Earl Thomas speaking.’

‘Earl, this is Sheila,’ the SGA secretary announced into the receiver. ‘I've got a problem. We've gone into the limit for emergency funds. I've given out almost two hundred and twenty dollars. I'm sure there are more people coming in too. Especially after dinner.’

‘Cut into some of those dance allowance funds then. It doesn't matter because all the money has to be paid back. It's jus’ for gettin’ students home in bad situations. Keep a good record.’

‘Okay,’ Sheila said. That should have been the end of the conversation but Sheila stayed on the line.

Earl felt embarrassed. He told himself that his conversation with Zeke and his experiences over the past twenty-four hours had made him hypersensitive.

‘It doesn't matter now,’ he said into the receiver. ‘I know what's gone on, but it doesn't matter now.’

‘I feel like an ass,’ Sheila said. ‘I feel like I ruined everything. I could sort've see it when you got up at the meetin’ in the auditorium at twelve o'clock when the strike was called.’

‘It's all over now,’ Earl said.

‘Not really. I wanted to tell you something when you came in and asked for me to distribute this emergency money, but I didn't know what to say. I was embarrassed.’ There was a long pause. ‘Did you know all the time?’

‘No.’

‘Did you know that that key was probably the only reason he went out with me?’

‘No.’

‘Earl, what's gonna happen tuhmaruh?’

‘You've got me,’ Earl breathed heavily. ‘You have got me.’ The SGA president laughed. ‘Who knows? Ask Head Nigger . . . Hey! How long you gonna be on campus?’

‘'Til tomorrow afternoon,’ the secretary replied.

‘Well, man the station ‘til I get there. It's about six thirty? I'll be out there by quarter-to-eight. That letter that I left out
on my desk needn't be touched ‘cause it's already useless since Calhoun closed school. I'm comin’ out to do another one that I'll run off myself. Me an’ Odds or somebody'll be out there tuhmaruh also, so leave the checkbook where I can find it.’

‘Okay . . . what's the new letter gonna say an’ to who?’

‘It'll be to the faculty at this meetin’ if we have it. I have no idea what it's gonna say. Prob'bly: Help!’ Earl laughed feebly. ‘Later on,’ he said.

‘Good luck,’ she said.

‘You eatin'?’ Mrs Gilliam asked when she heard the phone being returned to its hook.

‘Yes, ma'am,’ he called. ‘Do I have time to get a shower?’

‘I make time fo’ musty men to get showers befo’ they set at my table,’ Mrs Gilliam assured him loudly. ‘You go ‘head.’

Earl hurried into the shower and lathered himself under the hot spray. He felt the tension being soaked away and realized for the first time all day that he was bone-weary. For Earl, being bone-weary was quite different from being tired. It was a state in which he found himself after having to do a great deal of work in a short period of time. After stretches like this when the work was completed his bones turned to lead and his muscles to rubber. He needed to sit down. He found when he stood he was sure that his bones and organs would slip into fatty pouches and vacuum caves within his frame and be dragged into a bed and allowed to redistribute themselves. He was sorry that there would be no bed waiting for him within the next few hours.

The shower completed, Earl stepped from behind the dripping curtain and dried himself with the rough-grained towel. He then slipped into his house robe and brushed his teeth, gargled, and flip-flopped back out into the hall. The downstairs cuckoo was chiming. Earl counted. Seven bells.

Before he could get to his room Zeke poked his head out of his doorway.

‘There's two professors here to see you,’ he said seriously. ‘The coach and another man.’

‘Where are they?’ Earl asked.

‘Downstairs. You know Miz Gilliam wuzn’ gonna let ‘um up here ‘til you said it was okay.’

Earl nodded and walked to the banister that overlooked the first-floor alcove and sitting room. Below, Coach Edmund Mallory and the head of the History Department sat discussing something between themselves.

‘Hello . . . how are you?’ Earl said, attracting their attention. ‘Come on up. I was in the shower . . . Mrs Gilliam never lets people into anyone's room.’

The two men smiled uneasily. They picked up their coats and walked up the thirteen spiraling stairs to the second floor.

‘Won't you come in?’ Earl asked, showing the faculty members into his room. ‘I'm not really prepared to handle a great deal of company, but I do have a couple of chairs.’

‘That's fine,’ Coach Mallory said warming a bit. ‘We don't want to take up a great deal of your time, but we received the notes that you put in the faculty boxes this afternoon, and we have been tryin’ to get in touch with you or MJUMBE all day . . .’