by Lynne Bryant
"Isn't it exciting?" Mattie asks as we rush over to greet her. "It's like Mr. Webster threw a graduation party just for us before we all split up."
"Let's not talk about anybody leaving tonight," I say. "Let's just have fun."
In a few days I'll start a job at the garment plant to save money for Tougaloo College. I'm still determined to be a college-educated teacher. I'm scared, excited, and worried all at the same time. I'm not worried about Mattie, though — she'll be fine. She and Robert, Jr., are already talking about getting married. The worry part is mostly about Adelle and Junior. Adelle is going away to Tuskegee, Alabama, for nursing school. I'm going to miss her so bad, I can't stand to think about it.
And then there's Junior. I'm so fiercely in love with Junior Jackson I can't see straight, and he doesn't even know it. I know I should give him up and find a man who's planning to settle down and stay in Clarksville, but I can't make myself do it. I've breathed the same air as Junior for so long, listened to his music and his dreams for so many hours, not loving him would be like forgetting to get up in the morning.
"Tonight is Junior's big night," Mattie says.
"That's right," I answer. "And nobody deserves to shine more than him."
Junior has worked for Mr. Webster at the Queen City Hotel since he was thirteen years old, on top of practicing with every two-bit band that blows through Clarksville, just to get the experience. And this is his big chance. I remind myself not to say anything that might make him nervous.
"Here comes Mr. Sunshine now," Adelle says of her brother as he returns from parking the car. Junior is so handsome tonight with his smooth new suit, white shirt, and red tie. If only Zero could be here to see him.
We crowd into the dance hall and find the seats Junior marked for us last night. The table is right in front of the stage, seats usually reserved for the white people who sometimes decide to come to the show. We aren't sure how Junior managed to get us this table, but we're not complaining. He pulls out chairs for us.
"Ladies," he says in his most suave voice, "may I get you some refreshment from the bar?"
We order root beers and look around at the crowd while Junior heads to the back. We wave and hug and laugh with our friends. It's not often, other than at church, that we see this many colored folks gathered together, familiar faces and strangers alike. Even though it's crowded, hot, and noisy, we are so excited we can't sit still. Before Junior gets back to the table, the band members start to come in and warm up their instruments, and a hush falls over the crowd as the trumpets squawk and the clarinets squeak. It doesn't last long when people realize it's not Mr. Armstrong yet.
Junior comes back, grinning and holding two icy root beers. He sneaks a bottle of beer out of his pocket, turns the chair around, and sits facing the back of it. He's already starting to sweat. I can see the beads forming along his ip and on his forehead.
"Are you nervous?" I ask. I'm thinking conversation will calm him down.
"Nah," he says, but I don't believe him. "It's just hot in here with all these folks pressing in. I'm hoping they'll open the doors when they jet started, let a little air in here."
Just then the band strikes up a fast-paced melody and the crowd settles into their seats, swaying and tapping their feet to the music. After the first number, Robert Webster walks to the microphone.
"Ladies and gentlemen, put your hands together for none other than Satchmo himself, Mr. Louis Armstrong!"
We are on our feet, hollering and clapping and whistling. Junior is snapping his fingers and grinning, and I think how I've never seen him look so handsome, or so happy. Mr. Armstrong starts with "When the Saints Go Marching In" and we stand through the whole song. Before long, couples start breaking off out of the crowd and filling the small dance floor at the back of the hall, or dancing in the aisles between the lined-up chairs.
It's such a joyous feeling to be here with the man I adore and my very best friends. I think I might burst with happiness. Tonight, I believe anything is possible. Zero will become a doctor and Adelle will finish nursing school. They'll get married and have lots of babies. Maybe Junior will even decide to stay in Clarksville and play right here at the Queen City. And then, maybe Junior and I ... I stop myself. I can't get my hopes up that much.
The first set ends and Mr. Armstrong takes a break. Junior excuses himself and we see him talking with Mr. Webster back by the bar. When he returns, he's glowing.
"Mr. Armstrong has asked me to sit in on the next set!"
We all jump up and hug him at the same time. "We're so proud of you," Adelle says.
I knew he'd ask you to play for him," I say, try to catch my tears before he sees them as I reach up to kiss his cheek. Junior gives me a look like he never has before. It feels like my heart is going to stop. It seems as if he wants to say something, but just then a member of the band steps up and grabs his arm to tell him it's time to go.
Junior disappears and we settle back into our chairs to wait. From where we sit we can see the musicians returning one by one to the stage in the dim light. The piano is on the far right of the stage, and Junior comes in and takes the bench, lightly fingering the keys of the instrument he has played for so many years. My eyes are so glued to the stage that I gasp and turn when I feel someone touch my arm.
There before us are Dr. and Mrs. Jackson, looking elegant and poised, and maybe a little uncomfortable. We squeal with delight to see them. They part slightly and Zero steps in between them, his eyes fixed on Adelle. The love between them is clearer than ever as he takes her in his arms and kisses her.
Our greetings are short because just then the lights come up and Mr. Armstrong steps out onto the stage.
"Ladies and gentlemen," he says in his raspy voice to the hushed audience, "tonight, appearing for the first time onstage with my band, we are honored to have on the keyboard your own Mr. Albert Jackson, Jr." Mr. Armstrong turns and points at Junior, who stands up from the piano bench and bows. Everyone screams, but one voice is heard above everyone else's.
"Tear it up, brother!" yells Zero.
Junior turns toward the table and sees not only his best friend but also his parents sitting in the glow of the low stage lights. He smiles so wide, I think his face will crack, and he sits down and rips out a series of chords that fires up the band and gets Mr. Armstrong tapping to the beat. Before we know it, the band is in full swing and the whole place is pulsing with the rhythms of Louis Armstrong's jazz.
I have to shake myself and recollect I'm in Mattie's room at the nursing home, I'm so lost in my memories. That August night in 1931 was so full of promise. I can still feel the way my skin tingled when Junior sat clown at that piano. I remember how the black folks were so proud of Junior. We were all so young and full of dreams. We refused to believe that life could turn on a white man's whim. I look over at Adelle and Mat-tie and they're also gone in memory. Roxanne looks at me, waiting for me to finish the story.
"Junior had never been better. He played his heart out that night. I was so proud of him," I say. "That's also the night I knew I'd lost him for good." Mattie and Adelle nod. I see their sadness for me.
"What do you mean?" Roxanne asks.
"There was no keeping him in Clarksville after that. Within a month he hit the road with Louis Armstrong and his band. I didn't see him again for three months."
Mattie agreed to let us borrow a key to the Queen City Hotel, so on the way back to Adelle's house we stop by again so Roxanne can go inside and look around. Adelle and I decide to get out and go in with her this time. She looks very serious and her forehead is all furrowed up as she walks carefully around the old lobby. She opens doors and examines the floor and the walls like she's a fire inspector. We decide not to go upstairs, since we're not sure that old staircase will hold us.
Adelle and I wait and watch while she does her examination. I think Adelle is as lost in thoughts about what this place meant to us as girls as I am. I remember the late 1920s, when we were falling in love with
each other's brothers. Me with Junior — especially when he finally started to notice that I was not just Zero's annoying little sister anymore. It was mostly Sunday afternoons when I was able to spend time with him. He would come out to our house and pick me up in his daddy's car and drive us into town. We always came to the Queen City Hotel on those afternoons. Mr. Webster allowed us to sit out on the lawn under that big old magnolia tree and court.
"Addie, do you remember how old Mr. Webster would sit and watch us from the back porch?" I ask.
Adelle chuckles. "I sure do. I think he must have had some kind of arrangement with my mama and your grandma to make sure we behaved ourselves."
Roxanne wanders back over to where we're standing. She has pulled a notepad out and is writing something in it.
"What year did you say this hotel was built?" she asks.
"I believe it was 1909," I answer.
"Mm-hm," she says, still looking around. "You know ... I just wonder ..." She almost seems to forget we're standing here waiting on her. Then she looks back at us and says, "You know, it's a shame to let this beautiful old building sit here falling apart. Is there anything that it could be used for in the community? A bed-and-breakfast maybe? Or a country inn?"
"I don't rightly know," I answer, and Adelle just shakes her head.
"There's not much call for a bed-and- breakfast in this part of town, Mrs. Reeves," says Adelle.
Roxanne has a little set to her jaw, like she's just made up her mind about something. "In order to get money for restoration, there will need to be documentation of how this property will be used for the community's benefit." She looks at Adelle and me like we're supposed to have an answer.
"I don't really know how you go about that," says Adelle, and I shake my head in agreement with her. "But you're right. It would be a shame to let this old place go." Adelle walks slowly over to the big double doors that open onto the back porch. She stares out the doors for a long time, while Mrs. Reeves brings me over and points out some of the details of the staircase railing that are apparently historically significant. I watch Adelle out of the corner of my eye, wondering what she's thinking.
I walk over to her and put my arm around her waist. "What you thinking about, Ad-die?" I ask, as Roxanne finally stops poking around and comes to stand beside us. We're all watching the rain drip off the eaves of the porch. It's so quiet in here all you can hear is the steady drip of the leaks in the roof into the buckets Billy has taken the time to set around the lobby.
"I was thinking about that Sunday afternoon when Zero asked me to marry him," she says.
August 1931
Adelle
This year everything has started to feel different. Used to be, the minute church service let out, the boys were off, running around, playing ball or racing to the creek to catch tadpoles. Grace and I always help the older women get the food laid out, wishing we could he tearing around and being silly like the boys. But today, both Zero and Junior are helping set the tables up and hanging around after the preacher says the blessing.
The four of us have been coming with our families to these all-day singings with dinner-on-the-ground our whole lives. Grace and I are especially excited today because we're having the singing in two different places, since we've got so many people. The older folks will be over at the church, but Mr. Webster agreed to let us young folks use the Queen City for our singing. Right now, everybody's here under the trees down by the river for dinner. There's so much food spread on those wooden planks and sawhorses, they look like they might break in two.
I look up from unwrapping a chocolate cake and Zero is standing in front of me acting all shy, which is not like him. "Would you like to sit together for dinner?" he asks, looking at his feet for some reason.
At first, I don't quite know what to say. I'm thinking, of course I want to sit together. Isn't that what we always do — our family, Grace, Zero, and their grandmother? But then I realize he means just us, separate from my mama and papa. I look at Grace and she sort of shrugs her shoulders like she's not sure why he's asking, either.
He must think I'm hesitant, because he says, "Grade and Junior, too ... they could sit with us, I mean."
Junior nods, looking over my shoulder eyeing the food, distracted as usual. Grace just looks at him and waits. She adjusts her collar and smooths the front of her dress. She's so patient with Junior. Any of the boys around here would love to be eating dinner with her, but she has her heart set on my crazy brother. The only things Junior seems to have a heart for are music and food. He seems to suddenly realize that we're all staring at him.
"Oh, yeah ... Gracie," he says, charming her with his smile, "how 'bout it?" Zero rolls his eyes in exasperation. This is obviously not how he planned this, but Grace, as usual, puts everyone at ease.
"Yes, I'd love that," she says, placing her arm through Junior's. "Let's eat."
Zero offers his arm to me and we walk over to get in line behind the old folks and our parents. I glance over at my mama and realize she's watching me. Grace and I are eighteen years old now, and the boys are twenty. Both her grandma and my mama keep telling us that we need to act like young ladies around these boys. They don't want folks talking.
We fill our plates and find a spot under a gnarly old oak tree that's particularly shady. We're mostly quiet for a while except for making small talk about how good everything is. The boys lay into their plates of food like they haven't eaten in a week. Gradually we begin to talk about last night's show and how great it was for Junior to play with Mr. Armstrong. I'm feeling so grown-up today, sitting here with our beaus under this big old spreading oak tree. And Zero even offers to bring us more food. I decide that's definitely courting behavior. Of course, Junior, my stupid brother, is starting to fall asleep. Poor Gracie! I don't know why she puts up with him. But it does give us a chance to talk while Zero's gone.
Grace and I are giggling over how much chicken and dumplings Junior has consumed already. He's leaning against the trunk of the oak tree we're all sitting under, rubbing his belly and groaning. Zero is headed back over to the long tables spread with food. "Oh, and Zero ... get me some more of your grandma's fried chicken, please," I say. I bat my eyes at him and give him my prettiest smile. Zero is looking particularly handsome today in his white Sunday shirt and gray serge pants. He takes such particulars with his clothes, you would never know it's the only good set he has. The only other clothes he owns are work overalls.
"And I need one of Miss Mamie's fried apple pies," Grace calls before Zero takes two steps away. He shakes his head and grins, working his way through the groups of folks scattered around the grassy riverbank on blankets and under trees.
"Lordy, how do you girls eat so much?" Junior asks. "I ain't going to be able to do any singing this afternoon. I got to have me a nap." He slouches down and puts his hat over his face.
"You always say that," says Grace, leaning over to knock his hat off. "And then you end up singing louder and longer than anyone else."
"He does," I say and laugh. "And he also reads music better than any of the rest of us."
Junior picks up his hat and puts it over his face again. "Y'all wake me up when it's time to sing."
"Zero's not talking so much about going to California these days," I say to Grace as we watch him stop to help one of the elderly ladies out of her chair.
"I know." She nods. "And I think the whole reason he's changed his mind is you."
I blush then, feeling a little quiver of excitement. "Do you think so?"
"I do. I think he's smitten with you. And he knows you don't want to leave your mama and daddy."
"You're right. I don't." I squeeze Grace's arm as I say, "Oh, Gracie, I hope it's true. You know Mama married Papa when she was eighteen."
Grace frowns and pulls away. "But what about nursing school? What about how we said we were going to be different from these other girls around here?" Junior snorts and turns his head in his sleep. Grace is temporarily distracted from fuss
ing at me. She bats away a fly that's buzzing around Junior's face. "He wouldn't be so tired if he hadn't stayed up all night talking with those musicians," she says.
"Of course I'm going to nursing school," I say. "But, to tell you the truth ..." I lower my voice to a whisper. "I would marry Zero today if I could ... so I wouldn't have to worry about being such a good girl anymore ... if you know what I mean."
Grace's eyes get big and she looks at me like she's shocked. "Why, Adelle Lee Jackson, you little hussy!"
"Shh, now," I say, grinning at her. "Here comes Zero."
We sit up and act all innocent as Zero passes around the food he's brought back. We munch contentedly, watching the people milling about laughing and talking. When we've finished eating, Zero stands up, stretches, and looks down at me.
"Um ... Grace, if you'll excuse us ... Adelle, I was wondering if you'd like to take a walk down by the river before the singing starts?"
I'm startled by this, since Zero knows how strict Mama is about me being alone with a boy, even him, now. As I'm figuring out how to answer, he says, "I did ask your daddy's permission. He and your mama said it was fine, as long as we stay in sight."
Grace turns to me and grins, giving me a little wink. "You go ahead, Addie. I'll stay here with Mr. Sleepyhead."
Zero and I walk along the bank of the river, mostly in silence. I'm still a little off balance by how different things feel between us today. What happened? I find myself more conscious of his shirtsleeve against my arm and his hand against my back when he says, "Let's stop here for a minute."
We look out across the Tombigbee River, at the calm brown water, and I imagine us coming here with our children someday, letting them play in the mud on the riverbank. Zero stoops down and picks up several rocks and begins skipping them across the water. I watch and think how graceful he is.
