Three Days Before the Shooting . . .
“Wilhite,” he whispered, “that detective had better watch himself, because if I know anything about our women this sister is working herself up to a point where she’ll be preaching his funeral and talking about his parents at one and the same time.”
“Yes,” Wilhite said, “and if I were superstitious and she was looking at me the way she’s looking at him—I’d cross my fingers and spit in my hat. Because now that white man’s going to have to pay for all that agitation that fellow with the mush-mouthed legal mind is working up. That woman is getting as hot as a Charleston pistol … and I don’t want to be here when she explodes. Just look at her!”
“Lonnie,” the woman was saying as he looked back and saw her, wagging her finger at the pop-eyed man, “if you don’t hush I’m going to read you! I’m telling you now, I’m going to read you!”
Barnes drew himself up, his head turning from side to side following her wagging finger.
“You’re going to do what?” he said, his voice vibrant with indignation. “Where do you get the right to threaten me like that? This is a free country and open to all kinds of opinion; therefore I have the right—”
“No! No! And you lissen to me, Lonnie Barnes! You lissen to me!”
Frowning, Barnes stuck out his lips, his forehead wrinkling beneath his stocking cap. “Now how come I have to do that?” he said. “Tell me how come I have to lissen to you when I already know all about his kind? When I’ve seen them operate for over fifty—”
“… Because,” the woman screamed, “you’re so full of bull hockey and everybody knows it, that’s why! I want these two gentlemen who just came in to listen because I have a real problem….”
“Now you done said something,” Barnes said, “you really do have a problem.”
“… which maybe they can help me with….”
“… Yeah, but for that,” Barnes said, “you need to get organized. We need organization!”
“Oh, organize my butt!” the cross-eyed woman screamed. “Go organize your mama!”
Suddenly Barnes spun as though shot, the topknot of his greasy stocking cap catching the light as he stared in outrage toward the stairs.
“Now look here, Maud,” he roared, “don’t you go dragging my mama into this discussion.”
“Me?” the woman screamed, “ME! You brought her into it yourself! The only reason I’m mentioning her is because she had the misfortune of bringing you into the world where you have got yourself in my way and made me mad—So now hush! And don’t you roll your bloodshot eyes at me—
“Gentlemen,” she said, “forgive me for talking like that. I’m sorry. But as you can plainly see, our neighbor, Lonnie Barnes there, he just has too much mouth! Now the point I’m trying to get across is that we’re all out here at this time of night because we have had some serious trouble here in our building—which is our home—understand? And that does something awful to a woman. It upsets her! It makes her nervous! Now that white man there won’t tell you, but I will: Mr. Rockmore, who is our landlord, and Mr. McMillen, who you came here to see, are in some kind of trouble. That’s what this is all about. I don’t know what kind of trouble it is, but we know that it’s something serious. Because besides that rookie standing there next to you all, there’s some big-time detective and some other folks have been in there with Mr. Rockmore and Mr. McMillen. Not that we have been meddling; I don’t believe in that; but early this evening it sounded like there was a party going on in there, and can’t nobody here ever remember Mr. Rockmore ever doing any partying….”
“That’s right,” a woman said, “that sure is the truth.”
“Yes! and then there was some loud noises and a woman was laughing and all like that….”
“… And music,” a voice said.
“Yes, and some dance music and all like that,” the cross-eyed woman said. “So pretty soon the front door was slamming and folks was stumbling around out here in the hall and the next thing I know I’m wide awake and all kinds of rumors and questions is whirling around out here in the hall—understand? But in spite of all that nobody seems to know what the truth is. And that’s because that white policeman there won’t tell us anything, and neither will he let us go in and find out anything for ourselves.
“So now, that’s why I’m asking for your help. I’m in trouble, understand? I mean, when something like this happens I get to thinking I must be going out of my mind. That’s right, gentlemen. That’s the truth! Everything starts to getting so unstable—you know? I get the hot flashes and it’s like my brain gets to spinning so hard that I seem to be staggering on my feet. The ground starts to be trembling, and right now all this whiskey that’s in the air isn’t helping it one single bit! Understand? What I mean is, when something like this develops, a person like me doesn’t any longer know who she is or where she’s at!”
“All right now, lady,” the detective said, “I’ve let you speak your piece, so now—”
“… Man, you haven’t let me do nothing,” the woman said. “Gentlemen, as you can smell for yourself, there’s whiskey in the air, a heap of whiskey, and this ain’t no hangout for no bums or winos; this is a respectable building. But yet and still, there’s been some partying going on even though our landlord isn’t the kind of man who parties. And … and … well, I might as well tell it all ‘cause I know it’s what got that white man so upset: Some say that there was a white woman—”
“Now there you go,” Barnes exploded. “There you go! Putting all the man’s business in the street. You Negroes will do it every time!”
“Oh, shut up, fool!” the woman snapped, waving her hand. “Gentlemen, listen to me: Like I was fixing to say, everybody knows that when it comes to visiting, Mr. Rockmore has even less for the whites to do than he has for the colored—which ain’t too much by any standard. So I have some serious doubts about the white-woman part. Especially since there’s plenty of us colored around. So now I’m asking you all: What does it mean? Our neighbors are in some kind of trouble, but we don’t know its name and we don’t know its face, and, if you know what I mean, we don’t even know its race. That’s why we’re so upset. We want to be helpful in the way good neighbors ought to be, but we don’t know how. Things have been messed up for most of the night and we have cried and we have prayed, but all we can get out of that rookie cop down there trying to play god, is some stupid talk about McMillen being some kind of bootlegger—which we all know to be a garbage-mouthed lie! So now, since you look like fine, intelligent gentlemen and I know you haven’t been around here long enough to breathe up too much of this here whiskey-polluted air, I’m asking you to please tell me something that I personally need to know….”
“… Organization is what we need,” Barnes broke in, “Organization! I’ve been telling black people that for years!”
The woman paused, looking down and over the banister at Barnes with a fierce expression. “Yes,” she said, “but you talk so loud and wrong that by now even the dumb white folks take you for a natural-born clown, you old micturating rascal, you! So now you hush while I finish—”
“Now you listen,” the detective broke in. “You’ve said enough, and if you continue I’m booking you for resisting an officer.”
“Resisting an officer!” the woman said. “Man, can’t you stand the truth? Is my telling the truth a transgression against you? Besides, how’re you going to arrest me, sprout wings and fly up here over my neighbors’ heads? Shucks, man!”
“Now you listen, I mean what I say,” the detective said.
“And I hear you,” the cross-eyed woman said, “and you still ain’t saying nothing!”
“Tell it to him, Maud,” a voice called from the rear.
“So now,” she said, focusing on Hickman and stabbing the air for emphasis, “before I’m interrupted again, I want you two gentlemen to answer me this: What I want to know is how long are our colored men going to stand for these here white police to always be coming around dragging their nasty, filthy min
ds into the places where we colored folks are forced against our own free wills to live? That’s what I want to know! How long are you men going to stand for it?”
“But, lady,” Wilhite said, “Why are you asking us? We just walked through the door….”
“I know that, mister, and that’s exactly why I’m asking you. Because being strangers and coming here at this time of night, and with all this trouble and all—you must have been sent here for a purpose….”
Suddenly she paused, seeming to look over Hickman’s head and then at Deacon Wilhite, her eyes widening.
“Saaaay! Look here. What happened to the other one?”
“Who?” Hickman said. “Who do you mean?”
“Your friend …”
“But nobody came here with us,” Wilhite said. “We’re alone; just the two of us …”
“Oh, no,” the woman said. “When you started out there must have been another one. There has to been. What happened, did he fall by the wayside to get him a beer? Did he get lost?”
“Who?” Wilhite said. “Miss, you must have us confused with some other fellows. Nobody came here with us….”
“That’s the truth,” Hickman said, seeing the woman frown and a bewildered expression pass across her face.
“Well, if you say so,” she said. “But somehow it seems to me that there ought to be three of you. Don’t you usually travel in threes?”
Hickman looked quickly at Wilhite, who was staring at the woman with an alert expression. “No, ma’am,” Wilhite said, “only two. It’s been a long time since we traveled with anybody else….”
“That’s correct,” Hickman said, “a long, long time….”
“Well,” the woman said, “I guess you gentlemen ought to know…. But anyway, even if there are only two of you, being strangers you ought to be able to tell us something intelligent about our situation that we can’t see for ourselves. We need some leaders and fresh thinkers, and you look like you can help us….”
“Hell, Maud,” Lonnie Barnes growled, “haven’t I already diagnosed the situation? So why are you bothering these strangers when we got leadership right here in the community? All we need to do is git … ourselves … together!”
“Fool,” the woman said, trembling as she drew her folded arms close to her body, “have you ever heard of the change? I don’t have no time to wait, that’s why I’m asking them. Whenever a situation like this comes up I get the feeling that I must be losing my righteous mind! I want these gentlemen to tell me if what’s going on around here is normal, and if it’s the same way where they come from. And if it is, I want them to tell me what I’m supposed to be doing while I’m waiting for us to get ourselves together!”
“Now, now, Maud, that’s enough,” a woman called down from the second floor. “Like Lonnie said, you’re just getting yourself all worked up for nothing. Why don’t you come on up and get some rest?”
“What do you mean?” the cross-eyed woman screamed, turning and waving a skinny arm over her head, “‘for nothing’? I’m here calling on these gentlemen for help with my problem and you’re telling me that ain’t nothing the matter? That’s exactly why I’m calling on somebody that’s not all snarled up in this mess like we are. We been in it so long that we’re blind and I want to be taught to see! So, darlin’, I’m calling on them because I feel like I’m about to blow my top! Understand? You’re a woman, so you ought to. I’m calling on these gentlemen because they appear to be sane. So I want them to put my mind at ease! The building is reeling and rocking and knocking with trouble and I believe to my soul that these two millionaire doctors of the spirit have been sent here in the nick of time to save us and you talking about it being nothing? Good God-a-mighty!”
“A.Z.,” Wilhite whispered, “you hear what she just called us?”
“If you did,” Hickman said, “then I guess I did too. But I wonder who on earth does she think we are?”
“Why, I knew when I woke up this morning that something terrible was going to happen,” the woman said, addressing him directly now. “Oh, yes! Because, gentlemen, last night I dreamed that I had given birth to three sweet little babies. That’s right! One of them was black and one was white and one was ‘riney red, and they looked alike as three little green peas. And, gentlemen, it was all so real that I still can’t believe that it didn’t happen. In fact, I don’t know whether it happened or not from the way I feel and remember it, it must have been real, it had to be….”
“Oh, come on now, Maud,” Lonnie Barnes said. “Dammit, woman, you better git a holt of yourself. You know dam’ well that you ain’t even married!”
“And don’t I know it,” the cross-eyed woman said. “Oh, but don’t I know it. But I’m going to be; oh, yes, I am! My bridegroom shall cometh! Yes he will! And besides, what has that got to do with it anyway? What does it matter if he comes before or after as long as he comes? Is that too much of a riddle for you, Mister Bigshot Lonnie Barnes? I gave birth to those babies just the same, all three of them; and I was so proud, so very, very proud. They come one right after the other—one, two, three!—and without all that labor and pain you hear so much about and even without a midwife or doctor. And I got right up and fixed them up real pretty in little pink and blue dresses and everything. Yes, and I bathed them and oiled them and powdered them and I wrapped them in a nice blanket and took them in my arms and went out on the street and showed them to everybody and told them how it happened and all. Oh, but they were so beautiful! So sweet and charming; such dear little babies. And they recognized me as their mother right away and they cooed and gurgled and looked at me with such dear little ole Negro smiles. Oh, yes! the sweetest kind of baby smiles.
“And do you know something, gentlemen? At first folks were surprised. They were shocked to see me with my babies. But then they started laughing at me and told me that I’d better quit kidding them and take those dear little babies back to their rightful mother. That’s right! And me so proud of my motherhood! And when I insisted that I was their mother they called me a liar. I tell you, gentlemen, there’s a lot of talk about love going around but it don’t stop our folks from treating one another unkindly. So to prove my motherhood I took some of the ladies into a hallway and pulled up my clothes and I showed them. Yes, sir, gentlemen, I showed them myself and let them see from where all the life-giving blood and water had flowed.
“What! Oh, yes! I showed them the fish in the bird nest! I wasn’t ashamed.
“I showed them the O where all the A.B.C.s came out! I showed them the black eye that they were striking at and trying to ruin my good name!
“And I showed them the babies’ little raw belly buttons too. Showed them everything! But instead of apologizing for calling me a liar, and instead of being thankful for the wonderful thing that had happened to me, they scorned me. Here I have known some of them for years and thought they were my friends, but they upped and called me an ole loose-tailed bitch! That’s what they did, gentlemen. And so I want you gentlemen to know that I was hurt to the quick, to my heart and soul…. Because I had always wanted me a nice little baby and here I had been blessed with three. Not just one, but three—
“Sweet ones,” she said, smiling triumphantly and counting on her claw-like fingers. “One little, two little, three little, pretty little, plump little, cunning little cute ones!
“But,” she paused, frowning sadly as she shook her bewigged head, “but instead of being happy and congratulating me on finally coming through on my womanhood even though it was kinda late, they scorned me and called me a bitch! A bitch! How do you like that, gentlemen? And after I had showed them all my evidence, after I had gone so far as to uncover the boat in the bulrushes for them all to see, they still called me a bitch! You hear me? A bitch! How about that, gentlemen?”
Turning his head, Hickman caught a glimpse of Deacon Wilhite’s dumbfounded face—just as Lonnie Barnes threw up a fuzzy arm and gestured violently toward where a cluster of women were looking at the cross-eyed
woman with expressions of fascinated disapproval.
“Dammit,” Barnes shouted, “will some of you ladies stop standing around looking like a bunch of gossip-sprouting bitches and get this dam’ woman out of here? This is awful! Disgraceful! Why … hell! that dam’ cherry of hers must have dried up and blown away way back around nineteen twenty-nine! I tell you this is awful!”
“Yes, it was awful. Yes!” the cross-eyed woman snapped. “But what does an old micturator like you know about something wonderful like this? What do you know about the woman’s role in life? Nothing!
“That’s why,” she said, appealing to Hickman in an earnest voice, “I want you two fine, intelligent-looking, leader-type gentlemen to answer me this: Was I wrong? Was I a bitch to give birth without a husband? And was it any worse than it would be if one of you gentlemen was to give a woman a baby without marrying her, without letting her be a mother?”
“What!” Barnes exploded. “Now how can anybody do that? How can a man give a woman a baby without making her a mother, that’s what I want to know—yeah. And how can a woman give a man a baby without his being a father?”
“Oh, you make me sick, Lonnie Barnes; you make me sick to my stomach! It’s for me to know and for you to find out, so shut up! But was it, gentlemen? Is it? Is it any worse than it would be if a woman was to give you a baby that you didn’t know she was going to give you? Tell me, because I have to know!”
Suddenly Hickman felt a tightening of his nerves that seemed to bring a sharpening of his hearing as now with a sense of unreality he watched the woman’s eyes appear to flame brighter than the lightbulb suspended from a cord above her head. Somehow her questions had taken on a note of personal significance and as his sense of unreality grew he heard a young woman’s thin, anguished voice calling down from the floor above:
“But Miss Maud, you … you just told us that it was all a dream, Miss Maud …”