The Last Leaf of Harlem

by Lionel Bascom

  None of the Tuckers knew much about cook. To the elders, she was a colored person quieter than most and never giving trouble, nor asking for more money. They didn’t like Negroes, particularly, and had no interest in cook’s inner life. They only wanted fidelity and servility, and both they got.

  But Blake knew this about her, that she had a house in Harlem, to which she went whenever she could…

  He fancied it was a boarding house that she had bought with her savings to keep her declining years in comfort. For the Tuckers discharged old servants without pension or pity.

  It was autumn. The oak in the backyard had one orange branch of great beauty. Sometimes a few dry leaves fell on the bulkhead. There were not so many birds. Two very tiny squirrels played happily all day long. The motionless cat lay and looked at them. At night the harvest moon rode swiftly over the sky, more luminous and lovely with each hour. The city stars shone bright for city stars.

  Cook was ready. The bus left at ten. It was nine. Mr. Tucker and Blake were at their respective offices. Mrs. Tucker was downtown to catch a Saturday sale. The second girl had gone to market. Cook had made up the menus. There was only dinner that evening and breakfast Sunday. She would leave New York Sunday night and be back in Boston in time for breakfast Monday.

  She was alone in the house. She had tidied her room and drawn the shades so that the afternoon sun would not shine on the mirror. At two o’clock each bright afternoon she came upstairs and drew hue shades. She was careful of the fine old-fashioned bureau, not because it was Mrs. Tucker’s, but because it was beautiful.

  Cook came downstairs carrying the overnight bag her niece had given her last Christmas. She was dressed in dark blue and a becoming hat that Mrs. Tucker had got through with. In the bag, in addition to changes of clothing, were a Bible, a modest insurance policy, and a packet of bank notes of the higher denominations worth more than two thousand dollars.

  She got her lunch box out of the Frigidaire. There were two minced ham sandwiches, two of egg and olive, two of peanut butter and a bar of chocolate with nuts that Blake had given her two days ago, and which she had saved for this journey.

  She carried a collapsible drinking cup, for she felt it improper to suck tonic through a straw. And she could not bring herself to drink from a glass that the soda jerk simply rinsed in a little clear water.

  One last thing, her umbrella in the back vestibule. This she got. And this morning she would go out the front door, because the back door did not lock of itself, and there was no one to lock it after her. She quitted the kitchen and went through the halls. The house was quietly elegant, but she was unimpressed. There was nothing in sight she wanted or did not have.

  There was quite a walk to the car line. A cruising cabby accosted her, but she stomped on stolidly. Why should she pay a dollar to get the identical distance she could go for a dime? Money was got by the sweat of one’s brow; or at least the dependable part of it.

  The bus was on time. Presently the seats were all full, with cook in the uncomfortable one over the wheel, where almost inevitably, as if by design, except that there is no prejudice in Boston, the colored passenger is put.

  She leaned back and relaxed. She was one of these people who never get used to travel. It was always an enormous strain until she was settled in her seat, and it began to be a strain again when she was near her destination.

  The driver came to hoist up baggage. He bent to cook’s valise, but she gripped it firmly.

  He argued mildly. “You gotta keep it outta the aisle, lady.”

  She put it between herself and her seatmate. The lady was Jewish and friendly and did not mind. Later they would share the lunch box, and the Jewish lady would pay for the pop.

  But for the moment there were no words between them. Cook, with the bus in motion, knew that she would nod. It was funny to see her catch herself out of sleep, and then slide back again, and again jerk awake, until finally and soundly she slept, with her hat awry.

  It was noon when she roused. The passengers were piling out for refreshments. The Jewish lady’s “Poodun me!” awoke her. She took her bag and her lunch box and followed her.

  They both talked with little grunts and soft groans and vast gestures.

  It was early evening when cook reached New York. She knew the way from bus stop to subway. The push and bustle bothered her, but did not overly confuse her. Soon she was through the turnstiles and in the crowded train, hanging on to a greasy strap, and peering anxiously at the flying platforms.

  At the 135th Street station she got out, walked one block west and four blocks north, and there she was on Strivers’ Row, the 200 block of 139th Street.

  She stopped before an imposing house, mounted the stone steps, rang the bell beneath the doctor’s plate, and waited in warm anticipation.

  A black maid opened the door and beamed broadly.

  “Welcome home, Miss Williams!”

  “It’s nice to see you, Annie! All you all well?”

  “Well, Henry was having a baby, and it made him nervous, but it’s twins, and they’re doing nicely, and so is Henry.”

  Somebody shouted down, “Aunt Viney, Aunt Viney! Bless your old heart!”

  It was young Lestra. She flew downstairs and gathered Vine in her arms.

  “I met two trains, and I’ve been upstairs listening for taxis. Did you fly, funny woman?”

  “I came by bus and took the subway. All told two dollars and five cents.”

  One might have said she smiled sardonically.

  Lestra laughed, and they went upstairs with their arms around each other. Annie put the umbrella in the stand and followed with the bag. She thought Miss Williams was very eccentric.

  Dell Clement in a becoming negligee met them under the flattering hall light. She was beautifully imposing as the house. Education had worked its usual miracle. She and Viney were sisters. But Vine, the elder, had slaved and saved to send Adele through grade school and high school and college. And now Dell stood in her mellow yellow loveliness as unlike Viney, her sister, as Mrs. Tucker was unlike Viney, her cook.

  “Dear, dear Vine!” she exclaimed, with an elegance that was becoming in her drawing room, but before Viney was simply putting on airs. For the first duty of the gracious is to put the awkward at ease. And Vine was always uncomfortable around Dell.

  She offered, “Well, you look well, Dell!” and dared not disarrange that crimson, and brushed Dell’s bloodless cheek.

  “Age does not wither. Don’t gape, Annie. Vine, let her have your things, and come along with me. I want a visit with you before the guests arrive.”

  She stood divested and dismayed. “You all having a party?”

  Lestra was resentful, too. “Darling, dad and I begged her to postpone it when we knew you were coming. But there’s a bird in town who’s being partied. And you know ‘Dell.”

  She was unperturbed. “If some one asks you to play tonight, Lestra, mind you be nice about it.”

  “I hate playing for a parcel of drunks. They only ask to be polite, and nobody pays attention. And when I play, I sweat blood, and I hate to sweat blood to no purpose.”

  But Dell was disdainful. “You’re only putting on because Vine’s here to take your part. Come along with me, Vine. I want to test my face before the evening starts.”

  They went into Dell’s bedroom. It was in excellent taste, without frills and with subdued lights.

  “Ah, but perhaps you want to rest your face, too? Shall we go into your room? Or will the chaise lounge do?”

  “It’ll do,” said Vine, going to sit bolt upright on the edge of it. “I had a good sleep coming. And I don’t know how to rest my face unless you mean by yawning.”

  Dell, lying flat on the bed, looked at her critically. Viney, why is it you haven’t a line or wrinkle, and you’re fifty? And you’ve worked like a dog all your life, and I’ve been a lady since you sent me to boarding school when I was seven, and you were seventeen, and already a cook in the white folks’ kitc
hen.”

  She said without sadness, “Because I was so tired after supper that I went straight to bed and straight to sleep, while the rest of the world was sitting up studying.”

  Dell lit a cigarette with a lovely gesture. Did you ever envy me, my poor Viney?”

  “When I sent you to boarding school, I didn’t. You were so lost looking and little. And then when I sent you up north to college, I was glad you was getting out of the south. And when you married Neil, I just couldn’t envy no woman no man. Not that Neil ain’t (the) nicest, and I was happy to help him get started. But I guess I’m a born old maid.

  “But when Lestra was born, and I come north to see her, I cried. I loved her so much I almost hated her because she wasn’t mine. I’d had something to do with everything else, but I hadn’t had nothing to do with that. And she was the first and only thing I’d ever really wanted.”

  “Darling, Lestra loves you as much as she loves me.”

  “All this house means to me is that it’s a roof over her head. I guess that’s how come God gave me this power to foresee. I don’t never selfishly use it. I got a considerable sum in my suitcase right now. And I reckon before morning the Lord’ll direct me how best to bestow it.”

  Dell got terribly excited. She set up straight. Her face was no longer resting.

  “Viney, have you hit the number again? Good God, when? For how much?

  Vine enjoyed it. “Well, now “Dell, I guess it’s too late for you to give a more elaborate party. And what else do you ever want money for? If you’d followed Lestra’s mind and put off your doings, I reckon we could have scraped up a hundred or so for a fancy frock.”

  Dell was utterly dismayed. She made a disdainful gesture. “And I’ve already worn that wretched dress four times. And there was such a bargain at a shop on 57th Street. Ninety-eight dollars, and too too divine.” She cast a sidelong glance at Viney. “But the Carter’s dinner is Wednesday.”

  “Well, said Viney indulgently, “if the Lord directs me to make you a present, it’ll be a party frock.”

  Dell was satisfied. She drew a long breath and settled back. Viney saw with surprise that her face did seem to be resting. There was even something pathetic about her. She was like a child who has been appeased with the promise of a toy. And out of her loins had come the miracle, Lestra, who was so removed from trivialities. Well, Lestra was of Dell’s body, but her soaring spirit was of God.’

  Vine, what on earth did you dream this time?”

  “Well, seems like I saw a man standing on a precipice like he was fixing to fall. So I started running toward him. And when I come up close I called, and he turned and it was Neil.

  “Well, I just stopped dead, and I said, “Oh, oh” and I woke myself up saying it. And there I lay with my mouth wide open. And that was another 0.”

  “000,” said Dell. “What a crazy number.

  “Dell, I hit it just the same, Next day. And happen the Merivales was leaving that morning. They’d been the Tuckers’ guest two weeks. And Mrs. Merivale, she come and give me five dollars. And, of course, that was the Lord’s direction. Because all along the Merivales had been planning to leave Saturday. And here they was going unexpected Friday.”

  Wouldn’t your Lord like it if you sometimes played with your salary?”

  “I ain’t a gambler. I’ve seen too many folks go clean fool playing them numbers every day. Me, I follows my dreams, and plays with change I pick up here and there. If I don’t get a hit but once in six months, I’m satisfied. I was cooking for my living before numbers was ever thought of. And I ain’t going to sit down now and let ‘em support me.”

  “Well darling, go on about its being Friday and the five dollars.”

  “Well, seemed like I’d never get through serving breakfast. First there was one thing wanted, then another. Working for second class white folks! Lord, lord! But finally I was free with my table cleared and my dishes stacked. And I run on down to the cobbler’s. Sim is a right enough bootblack there, but it’s mostly a blind, and he does more business than Toney.

  “It was past twelve already and Sam leaves around one to collect the rest of his numbers. You’d be surprised at the parcel of white folks that play with him. Why, our policeman hit three times last month for fifty cents each time.”

  Dell cried out impatiently, “Viney, don’t talk around! So you put five dollars on 000, and oh, my God, you must have over two thousand dollars! Viney, where’s that money right now!

  “In my bag ‘long with my papers. I always carry my insurance papers with me ‘cause you never can tell where death’ll overtake you. And I want whoever finds me to see I’ve got enough for a proper burial. I’ve lived decent and I’ll lie in my coffin likewise.”

  “Viney, will you march yourself to your room and get that money and bring it here to me to put in my safe? My God, you know a hundred niggers will be running amuck here tonight. And there isn’t one of them who couldn’t use two thousand dollars.”

  Vine escaped rather gratefully. There just wasn’t an atmosphere of righteousness in Dell’s room. She was not at all sure that Dell’s thoughts dwelt much on her Maker. She understood how white folks could forget God. They had so many other things to study. Buy colored folks were too few generations removed from sorrow songs and slavery. How could they forget the God of deliverance? Why, she well remembered when Dell would boast that Lestra had never heard a spiritual sung or been inside a Negro church.

  Viney’s room was at the farthest end of the hall. Adjacent was a French door that opened onto a little balcony. Not until she had almost reached it was she aware that the door was open and a man stood in a silhouette.

  “Oh,” she cried. “Oh, my goodness!” and her mouth was agape.

  The figure turned and came forward. It was Neil in tuxedo with both hands outstretched.

  “Lavinia! I was waiting to welcome you. I didn’t want to disturb you and Dell.”

  He kissed her cheek and pressed her hand warmly.

  Viney fluttered. “You gave me a start, but I’m real glad to see you. Let’s go in my room and sit down a spell. I want a good look at you.”

  Neil locked the door and followed her into the cheerful room that Dell had told the decorator was to be her elderly mother’s; and was therefore not a terrifying place with newfangled furniture, but was instead expensively arranged with fine old-fashioned pieces.

  There was a dreamy light over everything. Viney sank into a rocker, and Neil went to stretch his long body in a wide-armed chair.

  He was still alert and lean. Lestra had got his sensitive hands and head of wild curls. His eyes had seen much suffering and mirrored it. He was a very beautiful pale ivory man who had never been a gay boy, and had loved no woman but Dell, and Dell not very much, having loved humanity too largely, and not any one woman’s glowing body.

  Tonight his mouth was tired, and his hands were making his hair more unruly than ever. Now he slumped forward and stated unseeingly at the overnight bag at his feet.

  “Why do people go on having children? Why in God’s name don’t they stop it? Babies are born, and babies die, and why should they live so briefly? Suppose my Lestra had been stillborn, and her gift gone with her? And there are other infant Lestras, dead with their songs in their silent throats. Oh, God, Negro children die in droves, and they are all our hope.”

  “You’re a great doctor, Neil, and you heal with love as well as learning. So if you can’t save ‘em nobody can. And there ain’t no use your worrying.”

  “I ought to take it up with your God. He’s known to keep an eye on sparrows. I wish he’d stretch out a hand to these little blackbirds.”

  “My God is ever mindful of the least of His flock. And the children of Ham ain’t least. The meek will inherit the earth. And the Ethiop will wipe out his oppressors.”

  He smiled at her unshakable faith. It made his face softer. He straightened up and stuck his hands in his pockets.

  “Well, I’d like to see some quicker a
ction. I hate to wait for the coming of the Ethiop. Couldn’t I take it up with your God right now? I say, man to man, our Father in Heaven, give me a hospital to give to the sick children. For I cannot bear any longer the lame and the halt and the blind.”

  He swung out his feet as he settled back. The overnight bag toppled over with a bang.

  “Well, I didn’t expect such a speedy reply!”

  But Viney was ashen and reverent.

  “Don’t mock! God has answered. God has answered!”

  He looked at her searchingly. “What does He say?”

  “I hear Him like He was speaking inside me. Here is My House. Take it.” She said apologetically, “I reckon that’s a parable.”

  But Neil jumped up and began striding up and down. His shadow leaped along the wall. It was gigantic.

  “Oh, my god, Lavinia, don’t you see? This house. This fine big house. Oh, my god. I can make it a fine big hospital. Here in this room there’ll be four little beds and four little boys. Lavinia! But this is your room This is your house.”

  She said very simply, “take it.”

  He halted before her and stared down at her hard.

  “Your God is human,” he said humbly.

  But he began to tear about again.

  “Lavinia, you’re not a young woman. And there’s Dell, who’s got used to this way of living. And Lestra, who will never go to business.”

  “About me, Neil, I’m the kind what dies in harness. I ain’t one that’ll ever be a dependent. And my little insurance ain’t life. It’s an endowment, come due in fifteen years. And I reckon with careful managing I can make it last till the chariot swings low, with enough left, God willing, for a funeral with flowers.

  And Dell, she’s my own sister, but she ain’t the type to shed tears about. I reckon you’ll always have a hundred for a party frock. And as long as you’re a doctor, she’ll be a deity. And there ain’t nothing else she worries about.