Catfish Alley

by Lynne Bryant

  "Yes, both of those boys turned thirteen that year and they were both itching to get out of Clarksville as soon as they could," says Grace.

  "And you had gotten all moony-eyed over Junior already," teases Adelle.

  I glance over at Grace, who's nodding her head. She sighs.

  "It's true. I had the biggest crush on Junior that an eleven-year-old girl could have. Adelle, do you remember that day Mama let me go to town to pick up something for her at Green's store? I think it must have been sugar. I reckon she needed it right then, because Zero was working for Green and he could have just brought it home. But she sent me."

  "Oh, I remember," says Adelle. "I was down on Catfish Alley with my mama that day. We were buying catfish for supper. You came bursting out of Green's store all puffed up and about to cry because those boys were ignoring you, telling you to scram and get home." Both women laugh, and then Grace tells her story.

  March 1924

  Junior, Zero, and I are sitting on the curb, drinking a root beer out back of Green's store on Catfish Alley. It's Saturday afternoon in the springtime. The sun is warm on my face and I can smell Miss Mabel's catfish from Jones's Cafe across the street. Mama sent me to town for sugar. She's got to have it for a cake she's making tonight. Fine with me, because I get to see Junior. Junior and Zero will both turn thirteen years old this year and they're itching to be somewhere bigger than Clarksville. Why do boys always want to be somewhere besides where they are?

  Zero stocks groceries and sweeps the sidewalks for old Mr. Green and Junior has a job over at the Queen City Hotel. Junior's papa always planned on him following in his footsteps and becoming a doctor. But he doesn't want anything to do with doctoring; crazy thing is, it's Zero who wants to be a doctor. Every chance he gets, he's running errands for Dr. Jackson, or offering to clean his clinic.

  Junior eats, sleeps, and breathes music. Ever since the day Louis Armstrong first came to the Queen City Hotel last summer, and played to a Saturday night crowd of every colored person within forty miles, Junior has been saying that playing music is what he's got to do.

  Mrs. Anna Lee Jackson, Junior and Adelle's mama, is a musical person, so I reckon Junior came by it honest. They even have a piano in the front room of their house. They're lucky.

  Their mama taught them both to play the piano when they were little. Adelle plays for the Missionary Union Baptist Church on Sundays. But Junior ... Junior plays jazz piano. He's talking about Louis Armstrong again.

  "I'm telling you, Zero, you've got to come hear Louis Armstrong next time he comes to town. He's got this big smile and he dresses really nice, like a white man. And what he can do with that trumpet. He had people dancing and singing. It was something to see. I want to do that, Zero! I want to play jazz piano for a band! I'm going to get out of this town and travel with a band like Mr. Armstrong's."

  "Why you always talking about leaving, Junior? What's wrong with Clarksville? I think it's nice here," I say.

  "Be quiet, Grade," Zero says. "You don't know what you're talking about."

  Zero's always trying to look big when he's around Junior. I get real quiet and sulk.

  "That sounds great, Junior, but I got a plan in mind myself," says Zero. "I'm going to medical school. I want to be like your daddy. Except, I'm going to leave Clarksville, too. I'm going to a place where a colored man doesn't always have to go in the back door, or wait behind the white people to get served."

  "And where is that?"

  "I'm not sure. Someplace up north. Or maybe out west. Maybe I'll move to California and be a doctor there."

  "California? You can't go all the way to California!"

  "Why not?"

  I look over at Junior. I don't think he knows why not. He's quiet for a minute. I don't think he knows where California is.

  "Your grandma ain't ever going to let you go that far away from home."

  "That's right, Zero," I say stubbornly. "Grandma wouldn't stand for that."

  Zero frowns at me. "Don't you have to get home, Grace? Get that sugar for Mama?" Zero takes the last swig of his root beer. "Anyhow, Grandma's not going to be around forever, you know. Besides, I still got to finish high school and college and go to medical school." He turns back to Junior, trying to ignore me. "Your daddy told me maybe I could go to the same medical school where he went in Nashville, Tennessee."

  "I tell you what, Zero. You be a famous colored doctor and I'll be a famous jazz musician and we'll meet back up in Clarksville when we're old and tell stories."

  "That sounds good to me," Zero says and leans back on his elbows, smiling like he's thinking about being famous.

  "You know the last time Louis Armstrong and his band were here, there was a big fight out in the alley behind the hotel," Junior says.

  Zero looks at me and motions for me to leave. "I'm not ready to go yet, Zero, and you can't make me," I say. " 'Sides, I want to hear what happened at the Queen City."

  "She ain't hurting nothing, Zero," says Junior. "Let her stay."

  Right about then I want to kiss Junior Jackson, but that would ruin everything. He only thinks of me as Zero's little sister.

  "Okay, okay. So what happened?" Zero asks.

  "A Tanner is what happened."

  "Ray Tanner got in a fight at the Queen City Hotel? I didn't think he'd be caught dead at a colored hotel."

  "Not Ray. It was his daddy, Rufus. Rufus has got him a new girlfriend since Ray's mama passed two years ago, and she talked him into bringing her to the show. Says she loves jazz and she doesn't care what color the musician is — she just wants to hear the music."

  "How do you know all of this stuff, Junior?"

  I can tell that Junior gets a kick out of showing off all the good gossip he knows from working at the Queen City. He's looking real smug right now.

  "I just keep my eyes and my ears open. You'd be amazed at what white people say. They don't really see us, you know. So they don't think we hear all of their gossip and such. So anyhow, here comes Rufus Tanner waltzing in the front door of the Queen City Hotel, looking around like he owns the place. I just happen to be passing through the lobby when he comes in with his new girlfriend. She looks to be about twenty years younger than him, got on a short dress, her hair all cut off. She's a pretty woman, smiled real big when she saw me. I didn't look at her, though. I know those Tanners and I don't want to get my ass whooped."

  "So let me get this straight. Rufus Tanner shows up at the Queen with his girlfriend to see Louis Armstrong? Did he talk to you?"

  "Oh, yeah, he stopped me right there in the lobby, even though I was trying to lay low and stay out of his way. He says, 'Hey, boy! Where's that there nigger band you got playing tonight? My woman here's wanting to hear them.' So I point to the bar at the back of the hotel and tell him that the show is starting back there in about half an hour."

  "What happened then?"

  "Then he and that woman go back to the bar. I keep working because I've got a lot to do to help the band get ready for the show.

  I'm helping unload the instruments out of the car, so I'm in and out of the back door from the alley. I'll tell you something, though. Things changed when Rufus Tanner walked in with that woman on his arm. At first, everybody got real quiet and sort of moved out of the way to let them pass. Then that woman flashed this big smile and said, 'Evening, y'all. Please don't anybody get up. We're here to enjoy the show, just like you.' Rufus didn't say nothing. He just followed her like some big old bloodhound. Some folks relaxed after that, but not the ones that know the Tanners very well."

  By this time, we've been sitting back here for a while. Zero turns to see if Mr. Green is looking out the back door of the store. "Hurry up and finish the story, Junior," Zero pleads. "I got to get back to work before old Green comes out here and sees me. What happened to start a fight?"

  "So the show started and, brother, what a show it was. The horns, the piano. I'm telling you, it was so good that folks was dancing and twitching. That white woman was sh
aking her skinny little ass right in front of all of those colored men and Rufus was standing there with steam coming out his ears."

  My eyes must be big as saucers right now, but I keep quiet because I don't want the boys to remember I'm here.

  "He didn't stop her?"

  "Last I saw, he tried. But he had a flask in his pocket and all evening he'd been drinking that home brew he makes, so he was too drunk to even get hold of her."

  "She didn't dance with a colored man, did she?"

  "Naw, she didn't go that far, but she got right up by the stage, you know. So's the musicians could see her real good, and that's when it happened."

  "What?"

  Just then Mr. Green pokes his head out the back door of the store. "Zero Clark," Green says in his big gruff voice.

  "Yessir," Zero answers.

  "Get your black ass back in here and get to work. I'm not paying you to sit on the curb all day drinking my soda pop and talking to Junior Jackson."

  Zero gets up quick and grabs the broom. "Yessir," he hollers. "I was just taking a quick break. I'm going to sweep out the storeroom right now." Zero motions for Junior to follow him, and I tag along as we go out to the storeroom in back.

  "Quick, finish telling me what happened," Zero whispers.

  While Zero makes a big show of sweeping near the door, Junior and I pin ourselves up against the wall just inside out of sight. I'm so close to Junior right now my heart is about to beat out of my chest. But it's like he doesn't even know I'm there.

  "She got right up near the stage, you know?"

  "Yeah, yeah, I got that."

  "And she kept making eyes at this bass player. Finally, he looked up at her and gave her a big smile."

  "What's wrong with that? She smiled at him first, didn't she?"

  "Zero, you dumb ass! This is Rufus Tanner's girlfriend."

  I can't believe how hardheaded my brother is, even after getting beat up by Ray Tanner just three years ago and coming close no telling how many times since.

  "Nothing happened until after the show," Junior continues. "I saw Rufus stumble out to his car with that woman. He put her in the car and told her to get on home. Told her he would be home later; he was going to meet up with the boys and have a drink. Well, I'm telling you, that's when I started getting a bad feeling."

  Zero stops sweeping. "What? Why'd you get a bad feeling?" We all peek out the storeroom and see Green walk out the back door of the store and throw a box on the garbage pile.

  Zero sweeps like the devil.

  "Something about the look in his eye. Plus, he didn't head over to J.T.'s, where he usually meets up with his buddies. He headed around to the back of the hotel instead."

  "Uh-oh," Zero says.

  I can tell from Junior's tone that something bad is fixing to happen. Zero stops sweeping and stands there, leaning on the broom.

  "What happened then?"

  "When I saw him heading to the back, I knew there was going to be trouble. So I scooted out through the bar and grabbed John Luke. You know him; Mr. Webster hired him to make sure things don't get out of hand when folks start drinking too much." Zero nods. "I told John Luke it looked like there might be a fight out in the alley. I figured if anybody could take care of old Rufus Tanner, it would be John Luke.

  "So the bass player, he's out there in the alley with some of the other musicians smoking cigarettes and winding down. That's what they do after a show. They get real excited playing that music and they have to wind down." Junior is acting all smart again. He's proud of knowing these things about the musicians because he watches them so close.

  Zero's getting impatient. "Look, Junior, just get to the point. What happened?"

  "Old Rufus came into the alley, drunk as a skunk. He started staggering toward that group of musicians, hollering, 'I'll teach you not to look at my woman like that, nigger! Who you think you are, looking at a white woman that way?' Those boys just got kind of quietlike. They didn't run and they didn't try to fight him. I think they probably been through this before."

  "What about that bass player?"

  "That's the problem. He got up in Rufus's face and said, 'Maybe you better keep your woman at home then. 'Cause she the one looking at me!' Rufus really got mad then. His face turned red like he was about to explode. Just as he was about to fight that bass player, John Luke stepped out into the alley and got between them."

  "What'd you do?" By now, Zero's forgot about looking like he's working.

  "I just stood there and watched, like everybody else. Rufus stood about even with John Luke's chest. You know John Luke is big as a tree. John Luke said, 'Now, Mr. Tanner, we don't want no trouble here.' He's talking real quiet like to Rufus. Then that crazy colored man tried to get in Rufus's face again.

  "You should have seen the look that John Luke turned around and gave him. Anyway, John Luke told Rufus he better go home and sleep it off, ain't no colored man would ever think of going after his woman. Rufus, he backed off then, but he was muttering to himself all the way back down the alley. I followed behind him, keeping way back just to see where he was going. He headed over to J.T.'s then. And do you know that crazy bass player tried to follow him? Them other boys had to hold him back."

  "Don't he know he's in Mississippi?" Zero asks. "He'll be hanging from a tree instead of playing that bass."

  I shudder when I hear this. I've heard stories about the lynchings, Mama and Grandma whispering when they think I'm not listening.

  "Yeah, I figure he's pretty lucky nothing happened," Junior says. "And I heard them boys say he'd better be glad Mr. Armstrong didn't know nothing about all that. He probably would've fired him. He can't afford no trouble like that on the road."

  Just then the back door of the store slams and old Green yells, "Zero, what the hell are you doing out there, plucking chickens? Get your ass in here. We got customers and I need some help!"

  "Yessir, Mr. Green. I'm coming." Zero looks at me suddenly like he's forgotten I'm there. "Grade, you get on home now, and don't you tell Mama and Grandma what you heard us talking about or I'll ... I'll ... anyhow, just get on home."

  After Mr. Green and Zero get inside the store, Junior and I sneak out of the storeroom. I feel so grown-up sneaking around with him. That is, until his parting statement.

  "I've got to get to my job at the Queen City Hotel. It's Saturday night and there'll be music for sure."

  I'm so thrilled that he's actually talking to me. "It sounds so exciting, Junior. I would love to hear Louis Armstrong play!"

  Junior gets that little-boy excitement on his face, but then he seems to remember who he's talking to and puffs up his chest. "Not a place for little girls, Gracie. You'd better get home now, like Zero said. Your mama'll be wondering where you are."

  Grace

  The rain has let up a little bit as we sit in Roxanne's fancy big car in front of the Queen City Hotel. The black folks sitting on the porch swing next door crane their necks, trying to figure out what a white woman is doing in this neighborhood.

  I realize just how sad the Queen City looks. The roof has obvious holes where huge oak limbs broke through during past storms. Several of the windows in the upper two stories are broken out and the ones on either side of the wide double doors are boarded up. It looks like the last paint color was some ugly shade of green, and it's obvious from the peeling that even that paint is at least twenty years old. The wide brick steps are crumbling in places, and what's left of the azaleas and roses are overgrown and spindly.

  I break the silence. "When I was a girl, this was a fine hotel. People all over the county were so proud of this place. There weren't many hotels for black people in those days, you know."

  "I guess I never really thought about it before," Roxanne says. I shake my head before I can stop myself. She probably helped get the white hotel, the Gilmore Inn, on the national register of historic places. She knows a different history, and sometimes I wonder if she'd rather stay ignorant.

  She got herself in
to this; she'll hear a lot more before it's over. "They had signs posted on the front of the Gilmore Inn that said No Colored. That's why Robert Webster built the Queen City. Before the handful of black hotels in Mississippi were built, those musicians I was telling you about slept in their cars, or in people's barns. It was rare for them to actually get to sleep in a bed."

  "What happened to this place? Why has it been allowed to get so rundown?"

  "Oh, it's one of those family stories. Robert Webster, Sr., died in ... let's see ... seems like it was in the early fifties. His son, Robert, Jr., operated the hotel for about eighteen years. Then, in the late sixties, after the Civil Rights Act was passed, and things opened up just a little bit, black people started being able to stay at the hotels and motels that had previously been just for white folks. It still wasn't easy, mind you. They still got turned away in some places. But there was a different attitude then.

  "Black folks stopped coming to the Queen City and it ran on hard times. It's been a boardinghouse off and on over the years. When Robert, Jr., passed, he left the hotel to his wife, my good friend Matilda Webster. She's over in the Pineview Nursing Home now, so she can't keep it up. Her oldest son and his wife died in a terrible car accident when their daughter, Billy, was in high school. Billy lived with Mattie until she went off to college. The hotel will go to Billy in the will, but she doesn't care anything about the place or its history. So ... here it sits."

  "Do you think Matilda Webster will want to talk to us about this property?" Roxanne asks.

  "I don't know. Mattie's not much on history, either."

  "Stay here," Roxanne says as she throws open the car door and pops up that big umbrella of hers. She climbs out of the car and runs across the muddy grass to the hotel's porch. She sets her umbrella down and cups her hands around her eyes to peer in the window near the door. She even picks her way around the side and struggles through those scraggly old azaleas in the rain to stand on her tiptoes and look in the side window that's not boarded up.