Catfish Alley

by Lynne Bryant

  Mrs. Stanley encouraged me to apply for a history scholarship based on my interest in home restoration. I was shocked when I got a full ride to Mississippi University for Women.

  When I left the bayou for Clarksville, to attend the W, I was determined to keep my family background a secret. I kept a cool distance from the other girls and made sure no one ever got to know me very well. I disappeared in the summers to go back home and work as many hours for Mrs. Stanley as I could to save money and help Mama. When Mama died my senior year in college, I went home for her funeral, gave my brothers my key to the house, and turned my back on the bayou for good. I got an apprenticeship with the Clarksville Historical Society working on an antebellum home restoration and a Civil War museum and began to create a history for myself based on Mr. and Mrs. Stanley. Before I realized it, in my mind, they became my parents.

  My family tree might be invented, but everyone around here believes it. And I've learned the hard way: Associating with black people, like my mama did, will get you nowhere. I remind myself I've got to stay clear on why I'm here. The people I know in this town think the way I do, so, I wonder: Who will want to take this tour? Will it be black people in the South? Will it be Yankees who come to Mississippi because they think we're backward and don't wear shoes? I'm not sure.

  While we're having our cake, Adelle and Grace take turns telling me about the Meharry Medical College, where Albert Jackson took his training. I have to admit it's an interesting story. A white man whose salt wagon gets stuck in the middle of the night in 1876 in the Kentucky hills. A family of freed slaves who take him in and help him.

  "... and then that man, Samuel Meharry, said that someday he would do something to help the black race," Adelle says.

  Grace finishes the story. "So, he and his brothers made the donation that started the medical school."

  I'm wondering if I could get them to write this stuff down for me — I'll never remember it all — when Adelle gets up, takes Grace's arm, and says, "Grade, let's show our guest Papa's offices."

  I walk behind them through the high-ceilinged hall and Grace and I wait while Adelle fishes in her apron pocket. She pulls out a large brass key and, after a couple of tries and adjustments to her glasses, gets it into the lock on a door I hadn't noticed when we came in. A small brass plate on the door reads Dr. Albert Jackson.

  "How long did your father practice medicine in Clarksville?" I ask.

  "Papa treated patients for fifty-three years," Adelle says proudly as she pushes open the door and stands against it. "Come on in."

  I feel myself stepping back in time as I enter the small waiting room furnished with four small wooden chairs. Beyond is an examination room; both rooms are painted a sterile white and I can almost smell antiseptic. Sunlight streams in through the open curtains of the floor-to-ceiling windows and reflects off the glint of steel instruments and glass syringes. Shelves contain neat rows of pill bottles with yellowed peeling labels, and a worn black leather bag sits on top of a small wooden desk in the corner of the room. Adelle has kept her father's office as if he might walk in the door any minute and say, "Bring in the next patient."

  "When Papa was not much more than a boy, he apprenticed with an old white doctor over on College Street who helped him learn how to mix medicines and treat wounds and such," Adelle says. "White people didn't like seeing coloreds around the doctor's office, so he had my papa treat them out behind his house. Papa saved every dime he could to go to medical school. On the day Papa was headed for the train station to leave for Nashville, Dr. Smith handed him an envelope with two hundred dollars in it. Every time Papa told that story he said it was the most money he had ever seen in one place at one time before or since!"

  As Adelle and Grace stand in the middle of the room, they suddenly become quiet. Grace walks over and picks up a tattered book with a frayed leather binding. "Addie, do you remember the time Junior and Clarence Jones brought Zero to see your daddy? We must have been about eight years old."

  Adelle smiles. "Of course I remember. I always thought of that as the day you and I became the best of friends." Adelle turns to me and says, "Mama and Papa had just started letting me go to the Union School that year. Grace and I were both in second grade. My brother, Junior, and Grace's brother, Zero, were in fourth grade."

  "Zero was ten years old," Grace adds. "I remember now because it was his birthday. Grandma baked him a chocolate cake and his birthday present was a whole nickel. He was so proud of that nickel. As we were walking to school that day he was telling me what he planned to do with that money."

  September 1921

  Zero and I walk down the dusty road toward Clarksville. The sun is just coming up. As we turn to take the path through the woods, Zero stops to check his pocket once again.

  "Come on, Zero. We're going to be late for school. You better not let Mama know you brought that money with you to school. If she finds out, she's going to tan your hide. What if you lose it?"

  "I ain't going to lose it."

  "Don't say 'ain't.' Grandma says it makes coloreds look ignorant."

  "Then I know a lot of ignorant white folks, too."

  "Grandma says that doesn't matter. What matters is that we take pride in ourselves."

  Zero sighs. "I've got big plans for this money."

  "What are you going to do with it?"

  "I'm going to start a savings account."

  "A savings account? What's that?" I switch my dinner bucket to the other arm and pull my sweater closer around me. The air has a little nip of fall in it.

  "Over at the Penny Savings Bank, you can open up an account in your own name and put money in it. And when you keep it there for a long time, they start paying you for it. Teacher said it's called interest."

  "What are you going to do with all of that money?"

  "I'm going to college. I turned ten years old today. I figure it's time I started thinking about my future. I'm going to be a doctor, like Dr. Jackson."

  "Adelle's daddy?"

  "Yep. Look what a nice house and nice things they have. Adelle always wears shoes. She even had a new winter coat last year. I want to have a house of my own someday. And I want to be a professional man, with an education."

  "How come you picked doctoring? You can't even stand to skin squirrels. Mama always does it for you."

  "That's different. Besides, I'll get used to it when I leave and go take my training."

  I don't like the thought of Zero going away. I can't imagine life without my brother.

  "Are you going to come back to Clarksville and do your doctoring?"

  "I don't know. Sometimes I think I'll leave town. Maybe go someplace where people treat coloreds better. I've heard of such places. They're mostly up north. Teacher even told me of a place where whites and coloreds go to the same school." "I don't believe you. You're just making that up."

  "No, I'm not. That's what teacher said."

  Miss Bessie Wilson is never wrong.

  "I'm going to be a teacher when I grow up." I try to sound as sure of myself as Zero.

  "Teaching is a fine job for a girl. At least until you get married."

  "What makes you think I'm going to get married?"

  "I don't know. I just thought you probably would. Most girls want to."

  "Miss Wilson's not married."

  "Yeah, that's true. Wonder why she never got married. She's pretty enough."

  I ponder this as we walk the last mile through the woods and work our way across the tracks and down the street to the school. We can see from a block away that everyone is gathered outside. As we get closer, we smell burned wood. All the schoolkids are gathered in small clumps, whispering and talking quietly. Miss Wilson is speaking to a short round white man with a big gold star on the coat of his crumpled black suit. I've never seen him before, but I think he's the sheriff. You don't see whites around this area of town much, not even the sheriff.

  I scoot in beside a group of girls my age and find Adelle Jackson. Adelle
and I are getting to be friends since Adelle started coming to the Union School this year. We both love to read, and Adelle even offered to share some of her books with me. I've never known anyone who actually owned books before.

  "What happened?" I whisper.

  "Somebody tried to burn down the school last night. We got that rainstorm and I guess it must have put out the fire before it could burn the whole school. When Miss Wilson saw what happened, she sent Elroy Davis over to get the sheriff. He's been here talking to her for about twenty minutes. He and that other man have been walking around and around the school like they are looking for something."

  The other man is near where the fire started to burn around the front door. The sheriff watches him while he takes his handkerchief out of his pocket and wipes his face. It's cool today, but the sheriff looks agitated and hot. The man near the door of the schoolhouse walks over to where Miss Wilson and the sheriff are standing. He's holding something small wrapped in a handkerchief, but I can't see what it is. The sheriff and the other man and Miss Wilson talk for a few more minutes; then the men get in a big black car and leave.

  Miss Wilson turns toward us. Her face is pale and ashy-looking and she has a black smudge down the front of her dress. One small strand of hair has come loose from her bun and she reaches back to tuck it in. I realize this is the only time I've ever seen her look afraid. She takes a deep breath and looks down at the ground like she is gathering herself; then she calls to us to come inside. School is in session.

  What a strange day it is, with the smell of burned wood and the breeze blowing in from the open door. Even though it's scary to think someone tried to burn down the school, I can't help but be excited for the end of the school day. Mama has given me permission to visit Adelle at her house over on Fifth Avenue. Adelle is going to loan me a book by Mr. Charles Dickens called Great Expectations. Miss Wilson says I will love it. Zero and I agree that while he goes to the bank to talk to Mr. Morris about a savings account, I will go over to Adelle's house. Zero promises he'll be by in an hour to pick me up for our walk home.

  The Jacksons' house is so beautiful I have to be careful not to walk around with my mouth open. I didn't know coloreds could live in a house like this. It's made of brick, has a staircase and big windows, and a real library. Adelle takes me into a room where one whole wall is filled with books. Adelle says her daddy is especially fond of books. He's been collecting them for more than thirty years. Adelle's mama brings us tea cakes and milk, and I decide I could just stay here forever. I get so caught up in the house, and the cookies, and the books that I don't realize how late it's gotten until Adelle's mama comes back to ask if I'll be staying for supper.

  "Oh, no, ma'am," I say. "My brother is going to be back here to get me by four o'clock."

  "Honey, it's already five fifteen. Do you think he meant five o'clock?" Mrs. Jackson sounds worried.

  I am shocked. First of all, because all that time slipped away without me noticing, and second, because Zero is never late. He prides himself on being on time. Plus, he knows Mama will be madder than a wet hen if we're late. As it stands, we won't be home in time for him to milk the cow before supper.

  "Grace, where did your brother go this afternoon?" Mrs. Jackson asks me.

  "He said he was going over to the Penny Savings Bank. He was going to see Mr. Morris about opening a savings account. He got a whole nickel for his birthday. I don't know why he's not here yet." I twist a braid in the back of my hair, trying to think what I should do.

  "Mrs. Jackson, can you tell me the way to the Penny Savings Bank? I'd better go check on my brother."

  I try my hardest to sound brave, even though the thought of walking the streets of Clarksville alone to look for Zero scares me to death. Mama told me to never go out on the streets by myself. Just last week, a colored girl from down by the river cut through the yard of the white Baptist church on Main Street on her way to work at the Riverview House. A white woman saw her and told her boss lady. That colored girl almost lost her job.

  Mrs. Jackson gets a stern look on her face. "Adelle, go knock on your father's office door. Tell him that I need to see him. Tell him it's urgent."

  Something in her voice frightens me even more. I hope I haven't gotten Zero in trouble. What if these nice people go look for him and he's goofing off somewhere, maybe meeting his friend for a Coca-Cola over at Mr. Green's store? What if I'm not allowed to see Adelle anymore?

  A large handsome colored man comes into the room behind Adelle. He's wearing a white coat over his white shirt, with a tie and suit pants. His shoes are black and polished shiny. I've never seen a man with shiny shoes on before. He kneels down beside me and looks at me over the top of his spectacles. His voice is gentle.

  "Grace, we haven't met. I am Dr. Albert Jackson," he says; then he gives me his big hand to shake. I take his hand and try to fight the tears I feel starting to form under my eyelids. "Grace," he says, "do you think your brother might have forgotten the time, maybe gone over to Green's for a soda pop or a piece of candy? Adelle tells me he got a nickel for his birthday today."

  I'm so overwhelmed I start to blubber and stutter. "I don't know, sir. He's usually on time. He knows Mama will be upset with us if we're late. She's cooking his favorite supper tonight and Grandma made him a cake, and we have to milk ..." I finally burst into tears and Dr. Jackson puts his arm around my shoulders. Mrs. Jackson and Adelle are patting me, too.

  "Don't worry, Grade," Adelle says. "I'm sure he'll be here soon."

  Just then there's a loud banging on the front door. Before Dr. Jackson can reach the door, it bursts open. I hear loud voices coming from the hall, and Adelle and I rush to see what's going on. I get to the hall first and I take in a big gasp. Two boys, one of them Adelle's brother and the other someone I don't know, are lunging into the doorway with Zero barely held up between them. Bright red blood drips from a long gash across Zero's cheek. His nose looks crooked and blood oozes from his nostrils. One of his eyes is swollen shut and his clothes are dirty and torn.

  "Zero!" I holler, and run to his side, trying to help the boys hold him up. "Zero, what happened?" He looks like he's trying to say something to me, but I can't understand him. Dr. Jackson steps in.

  "In here, boys. Get him up on the table." Dr. Jackson looks calm and in control. I try to follow him into the room but he stops me. "Now, Miss Grace, you just go with Adelle and let me take care of your brother. He's going to be fine. You just go on with Mrs. Jackson and Adelle." He eases me toward the door. The last thing I see as Dr. Jackson closes the door is a tear running down Zero's face from his good eye.

  Things happen in a blur after that. I sit with Adelle in her bedroom upstairs, while Mrs. Jackson sends Junior out to our house in their wagon to fetch Mama. I worry that Mama will be terrified and I keep getting up and going to the window to watch for her. Mrs. Jackson brings us some supper on a pretty tray with flowers on it. There are dishes with flowers on them, too, and cold milk in crystal glasses. If I wasn't so worried about Zero, I might feel like I was at a party. Adelle tries to help by reading to me from Mr. Dickens, but I can't concentrate. Every sound out on the street makes me jump.

  Finally, after what seems like hours, there's a soft knock on the door and Dr. Jackson comes in and sits down next to me on Adelle's bed.

  "Grace, your brother is going to be fine. He took quite a beating today, but I've gotten him stitched up and I gave him some medicine for the pain. He's asking for you. I think you better come and see him before he goes off to sleep again."

  I follow Dr. Jackson down the stairs and he takes me into a big white room, where Zero is lying on a narrow bed, covered with a quilt. Dr. Jackson guides me close to the table and reaches out to gently touch Zero's shoulder. "Zero, here's Grace."

  Zero opens that one unswollen eye and gives me a weak smile. "Hey, Grade," he whispers. I notice his words are all slurry. "Don't get Mama all worried now, you hear?"

  I don't know whether I'm crying because I'm ma
d at him or worried about him, but I nod my head and stand there not knowing what to do. He reaches out from under the quilt to take my hand. "I'll be all right, Grade," he says. "Don't you worry ...," and he drops my hand as he dozes off.

  We hear a horse's steps and the crunch of gravel outside and Dr. Jackson walks over to the window and peers between the curtains.

  "Your mama is here. How about we go out on the front porch to meet her?" he says. When Dr. Jackson opens the door for us to leave Zero's room, Adelle is standing right outside waiting for me. She puts her arm around me and gives me a quick squeeze. Right then I think how lucky I am to have a friend like Adelle. She steps back beside Mrs. Jackson as I run out on the front porch to meet my mama.

  Roxanne

  I feel the bond between Grace Clark and Adelle Jackson. I wonder what it would be like to have a friend like that, someone you've known practically your whole life. It occurs to me that no one knows me that well. Of course, I've made sure not to get too close to anyone; otherwise people might find out about my background. But it would be nice to have a friend to confide in; maybe someone who could tell me what I ought to do about Dudley.

  But then, as far as I can tell, neither one of these women ever had a husband and child to complicate their lives. I look at them and I can't imagine that either of them would ever fall head over heels for the wrong man. Was Dudley the wrong man? He seemed to fit everything I needed perfectly at the time. Was I so ambitious that he simply served as a vehicle for me to complete the story I made up about myself?

  Having children was certainly a part of my story that didn't work out according to plan. I always thought that Dudley and I would have our first child about a year after marriage and then maybe one or two more, two or three years apart. Everything seemed to be moving right along according to schedule. I got pregnant right away and Dudley was delighted. Milly came along in February and it was wonderful. I loved being a mother, knowing that things would be so different for my little girl. She would have genuine social status. I poured myself into mothering her. I even began to wonder how I would be able to love the next child as much as I loved Milly.