The Last Leaf of Harlem

by Lionel Bascom

  Mama had left the kind and loving home of her parents and gone to the kind and loving home of her husband. She was not grown up when she married. She was not really grown up when Papa died. She was thirty, but she was gentle and clinging because first there had been her parents and then there had been Papa to cling to.

  Mama, however, had character and hadn’t at all expected to cling to Bessie. She knew perfectly well that Bessie was only twelve and that she must be both father and mother to her fatherless child. Nothing surprised and baffled Mama more than to find Bessie being father and mother to her.

  It was Bessie, it transpired, who was bent on making a happy home for Mama. Papa had been thrifty and there was a nice account in the bank. But Bessie got a job. After school she tended a neighbor’s baby. Everybody said Bessie was a wonderful girl to work while other children were playing. Everybody wished that had a daughter as loving as Bessie. Everybody said that Mama was blessed.

  When Bessie brought her first pay home and dropped it in her mother’s lap, as Papa had done before her, Mama found herself saying, too, what a blessing Bessie was. And then Mama wept, not because she was happy and proud because she was happy and proud, but because Bessie looked so smug.

  Mama put the silver in the table drawer. She blinked her lashes. Here she was, doing things the way Bessie wanted them done. Here she was as she had been since Papa died, under Bessie’s thumb and still unable to wriggle out from under.

  Even when Bessie married, she had not been able to wriggle out. Bessie’s meek little husband stood in such awe of his wife that he wanted Mama around as an ally. All of Mama’s urgings that the newlyweds go their way without her met a refusal as firm as a rock. Who would look out for you? asked Bessie. What is home without a mother? asked Bessie’s silly husband.

  Bessie had other chances. She did not have to marry a fool. Mama remembered two before Charlie. They had been big and dominant and they had reminded Mama of Papa. But Bessie had been cool to them. She said they did not show proper respect for Mama. As far as Mama could tell, it was only that they did not want to marry her along with Bessie.

  Charlie did not want to be the head of the house. He thought Bessie was more excellent in every way than he was. He let Bessie kept her excellent job and admired her tremendously because she earned more than he did. When he lost his own job, he brought a cookbook and was better than Mama at preparing nice dishes.

  Bessie broke her record of never indulging in sickness the day her baby was born. She had to go to bed in a hospital and lie like a lump on a log for two weeks. She was certain poor Mama could not manage without her. And indeed Mama, who had had so many years of being managed by Bessie, was like a forlorn orphan.

  Bessie got the baby she wanted, a girl who obliged her by growing daily in soft and gentle ways. Charlie took care of her while Bessie was at work. He was better at it than Mama, who had lost her confidence in her ability to bathe a baby or mix a formula.

  It was his being better that brought about Charlie’s downfall. The child very naturally looked to him for everything. He was her infant world. He taught her her first word, which turned out to be Daddy. It was then that Bessie divorced him for nonsupport.

  When Marilyn grew old enough to understand, she understood perfectly that her daddy had never given her as much as a five cent handkerchief, while her dear wonderful mummy had given her everything.

  Mama glanced at the kitchen clock. It was nearly seven. AT seven she would speak. She, who had had so many years of not speaking until spoken to, was going to have her say at last.

  Marilyn, thought mama tenderly, and saw the girl as clearly as if she stood before her. Soft and sweet and twenty-one. Young for twenty-one, still tangled up in Bessie’s apron strings, still unable to choose between her mother and her heart.

  If I’m not home by seven at the latest, Marilyn had said. The clock chimed softly. Well, it was seven, and there was a train speeding west at seven, too. Marilyn had made her choice.

  Mama said “Bessie,” in a voice so soft and scared that Bessie did not hear her at all. So Mama said “Bessie” in a loud fierce voice to give her momentum to go on with the rest.

  Bessie turned and stared with stern surprise. “Mama, I’m not deaf.”

  “No,” said Mama stoutly, ‘but you’re blind.”

  “What are you talking about?” said Bessie severely.

  Mama sat down. She was beginning to be scared again. But having sat down, she found she could release her strength to her backbone.

  “About Marilyn and that …man.”

  “Fiddlesticks,” said Bessie calmly. “A girl brought up like Marilyn doesn’t leave her home and mother for a penniless young doctor.”

  “If she’s in love, she does,” said Mama firmly.

  Marilyn knows whom she loves,” said Bessie complacently. “She’s a grateful child. She knows how I’ve sacrificed for hr.

  “Then I wouldn’t doubt she’s tired of being a burden,” said Mama stolidly.

  Bessie fixed Mama with her eye and made her mouth a long thin line. “What have you and Marilyn got up your sleeves. You’ve both been acting odd. Why is Marilyn late tonight? She knows I insist on dinner at six. Other girls her age have to work. I’ve kept my nose to the grindstone to keep her in college. The least she could do is obey me. And why did you stay in the park so long? I’ve told you time and again one hour in the sun is long enough.”

  “I didn’t go to the park this afternoon,” said Mama.

  Bessie caught her breath in surprise. “But I sent you to the park. Why did you disobey me?”

  “I went to the bank,” said Mama excitedly. “I drew out my money, Papa’s money that you were too mean to touch. I gave it to Marilyn.”

  Bessie stepped back as if she had been struck.

  “What for?”

  “To get married on,” said Mama coldly. “She’s on a train now, going somewhere west to help her husband set up his practice.

  Bessie looked helpless and bereft. “How could my own mother send my own child away from me?”

  “It was my bounded duty,” said Mama gently. “Marilyn was too much like me, too much like putty in your hands. You could turn and twist us how you liked. You led and we followed. You held the hoop and we jumped.”

  “It was because I always knew best,” said Bessie with stubborn despair.

  BIG FROG IN A LITTLE POND

  “It was because you were the big frog in our little pond,” said Mama without reproach. “You never loved Papa because he was head of the house. You were jealous of Papa, Bessie. You think you love me, but it’s just because I’m not anybody for you to be jealous of.

  “When you see your child again, hard knocks will have made her a woman, and she’ll be your equal like you never let me be. And you’ll say she’s not as lovable as she used to be. You shielded me, Bessie. You wrapped me in cotton; I’m too old to want to get out of my wrappings. But I couldn’t bear to see Marilyn not knowing whether she wanted to get out either.”

  Bessie sank down on the edge of a chair. She twisted the corner of her apron. Her mouth hung lax and her lower lip trembled. Her eyes were full of frustration and pain.

  “Mama,” said Bessie, “tell me what to do.”

  Mama’s heart leaped to her throat. Bessie had uttered a cry for help. Bessie wanted her mother to tell her what to do. Mama got up and cradled Bessie’s head against her breast.

  “Just cry,” said Mama sensibly. “All mothers cry when their daughters get married. You’ll feel wonderful afterwards.

  Bessie’s tears wet Mama’s dress just like when Bessie fell off the tricycle. Mama felt wonderful, too.

  Bessie

  News Syndicate Co. Inc.

  Nov. 3, 1941

  New York Daily News

  This story was published in the News in November of 1941, barely a month before the United States was attacked by Japanese planes at Pearl Harbor.

  The story was illustrated with a drawing of three people, two
women and a little girl. All three appear to be white. Although the name Bessie is used, there appears to be no connection to a character also called Bessie in the previous story, Papa’s Place.

  Mr. Bannister came home from Bessie’s funeral and went straight upstairs to his room. He stretched himself full length on his bed and stared up at the ceiling. Below (the) stairs he heard the muted voices of his new young wife and his children.

  The voices sounded alien. Mr. Bannister was suddenly overwhelmed with is loss. He had lost his best friend. Indeed, he had lost his right arm.

  Mr. Bannister remembered the first time he had seen Bessie Hobbs. She was seventeen and as shy as a bird. It was … a month before he realized how pretty she was. By that time, however, he was head over heels in love with a widow ten years his senior, and anyone as young as Bessie simply didn’t count.

  Bessie had come to work for his mother when his father was ill and required his mother’s constant attendance. Bessie’s own father had just died and however regrettable it was to leave school, her earnings would feed the numerous younger Hobbses.

  YOUNG HUSBAND HEARS SOME SCANDAL

  In no time at all she was rock and anchor to Mr. Bannister’s mother. When his father died, it was Bessie who saw his mother through her bitter bereavement. She was like a devoted daughter. And it was natural that Mr. Bannister should give her the teasing affection he would have given a younger sister.

  Sometimes he went into the kitchen to help her with the dishes. He had got over the widow and he told her how silly he had been and how he would marry a simple home girl some day. Bessie would listen gravely. The color would glow in her cheeks and he would tease her about having a beard. Bessie would deny it hotly, often with tears springing to her eyes. Mr. Bannister would be glad though he did not really know why.

  In the Fall Mr. Bannister went away to college. In his letters to his mother there was always some little message for Bessie. In his mother’s letters to him there was always some little message from Bessie. With him always at school, his mother and Bessie ate together and sat together and took their infrequent excursions together.

  At Christmas, Mr. Bannister brought a college friend home with him. Bessie set the table for three. Mrs. Bannister went into the kitchen to talk to her. She said that Bessie was he companion now and entitled to a place at the table. When Bessie sat down at dinner, Mr. Bannister was surprised and embarrassed. He stole a quick glance at his college friend. The boy’s eyes were wide with admiration and Mr. Bannister felt a prick of jealousy that he could not explain.

  After dinner he followed Bessie to the kitchen. Diffidently, he asked if she had a beau yet. When she assured him with blushes that she hadn’t, he sternly advised her to wait for Mr. Right, and not to let a fickle college boy turn her head. For summer vacation, Mr. Bannister joined his mother and Bessie at his mother’s seashore cottage. It was the happiest summer he had ever known. He and Bessie were constantly together. He taught her to swim, he took her fishing, and they went on long hikes. He had a few Summer crushes, but somehow none of these smartly dressed girls was quite what he wanted.

  As his college friendships multiplied, Mr. Bannister did not always come home for the winter and spring vacations. In summer he went to the seashore only for weekends. Through the week he read law in his uncle’s office in town. He was maturing rapidly, and as his world broadened, his mother and Bessie seemed dear and sweet but a little too old fashioned.

  The summer after he finished college, he got desk space in his uncle’s office and the promise of steady advancement. Labor Day weekend he arrived at his mother’s cottage with a new suit, a broad smile and a bride.

  The young couple lived with the senior Mrs. Bannister. Mr. Bannister could not yet afford a maid, and his bride had never learned to keep house. When the junior Mrs. Bannister learned Bessie was not a poor relation but a paid servant without even a high school diploma, she had a scene with her mother-in-law.

  The scene upset Mrs. Banister so that she took to bed with a fluttering heart. When she was able to get up again, Bessie’s kitchen status was settled. She spoke to her son, but he said that he wanted no part of a woman’s fuss. Mrs. Bannister began to spend most of her time in her bedroom. And as her frailty increased, so did her dependence on Bessie.

  At the end of the year Mr. Bannister’s son was born. He was a fine average baby with the average baby’s many demands. Young Mrs. Bannister was ready to scream inside of a month. She found an escape by getting a job.

  There came a catastrophic month for Mr. Bannister. His wife’s employer moved his business to another city. Young Mrs. Bannister kept her job. She did not write her husband for two weeks. When she did, it was to ask for a divorce.

  Mr. Bannister rushed off to see her. His mother went to bed with shock. He found Bessie’s telegram on his return to his hotel, after his humiliating session with his wife and her employer, so obviously the man she planned to marry next. He returned home alone to (attend) his mother’s funeral.

  He walked straight through the house to the kitchen. Bessie was feeding the baby. He knelt and put his face in Bessie’s lap. No words passed between them and Mr. Bannister wished he could stay in the kitchen with his face in Bessie’s lap forever.

  All that week Mr. Bannister tried to find words to ask Bessie to take her meals with him. At night when he sat in the living room alone, he longed t ask Bessie to join him. But however had he tried the words would not come.

  One night he rode home on the bus behind two of his neighbors. The most voluble one was telling her friend that young Mrs. Bannister had left her husband because of the long relationship between him and Bessie, which relationship Mr. Bannister had tried to hide by relegating Bessie to the kitchen.

  It did not take young Mrs. Bannister long to see that Bessie was crazy about her husband. After the birth of the baby, she had gone to work to regain her self-respect. Now she was in another city getting a divorce, so that Mr. Bannister would be free to marry Bessie.

  Mr. Bannister was upset but the only thing on his mind was that he was compromising Bessie.

  There was but one thing Mr. Bannister could do. The next day he invited his secretary to lunch. he had never paid any particular attention to her. Now he saw that she was charming and amusing and kind. They went to lunch rather constantly after that and then they began to go to diner and the theatre, and on Sunday outings.

  When his wife received her divorce, Mr. Bannister realized suddenly and sharply that for some time now he had monopolized most of Miss Taylor’s evenings, and that his only honorable course was to propose to her.

  They were married one Saturday afternoon. Bessie did not know they were married until they walked into the house as man and wife. She murmured her congratulations through bloodless lips.

  The new Mrs. Bannister liked Bessie at once. She did not try to usurp Bessie’s place with the child. Instead she tried very hard to be a good housekeeper that Bessie might devote more of her day to the baby.

  When her own child was born, she regained her strength very slowly. Bessie took care of both babies and the ailing mother and the house. When Mr. Bannister came home from work, the house was cleaner and dinner better than they had been when his wife was well and able to help.

  When Mrs. Bannister was strong again, she made few bungled efforts to care for her child. But soon she surrendered her baby to Bessie and decided to do all the housework by herself.

  Dinner was not always on time, and sometimes the roast was not quite done. In her last minute scramble to gather the laundry Mrs. Bannister would often over look her husband’s favorite shirts.

  Gradually and with tact, Bessie began to relieve Mrs. Bannister of her duties. Mr. Bannister was aware of the difference but he did not mention it. He felt as if Bessie had been away and had come back. He knew that nothing would be the same if she ever went away for good.

  Mrs. Banister’s second baby was born then her third. She did not mend after her child’s birth, but death
did not free her for seven long years.

  For those seven years, Bessie kept house for Mr. Bannister and the children. She sat at (the) table with them. It came about very naturally when the children were small and needed instruction in table manners. They called her Aunt Bessie because she was the nearest thing to a mother that any of them could remember.

  The oldest boy was fourteen when his stepmother died. He loved Bessie more than anyone in the world. He knew that his mother had deserted him, and that Bessie had not.

  BESSIE SHOWS NO WILL TO LIVE

  He was too young to be tactful and told his father that he owed it to Bessie to marry her for her years of faithfulness. His father was furiously resentful. He saw Bessie as a scheming woman who had let slip her chances to marry, and now, in her middle thirties, had sent a sentimental boy to plead for her.

  It was in this state of anger that was really guilt that Mr. Bannister met Peggy Hollis. She was everything that Bessie was not. In short, she was twenty-one.

  There was a whirlwind courtship. Mr. Bannister had never acted so silly in his life.

  For the third time and with no forewarning, Mr. Bannister brought his bride to Bessie. As he looked from the young, trim girl at his side to the worn and gentle woman before him, he was filled with a sense of intolerable loss, and his triumph turned to ashes.

  Bessie went to bed that night with a blinding headache. She could not raise her head from the pillow the next morning. The children were late for school. The beds went unmade. The third Mrs. Bannister burned her hands at the stove.

  Toward noon Bessie fell into delirium. The doctor was called. He was very grave when he left her room. He said she did not seem to have the will to live.…

  Mr. Bannister lay on his bed and stared up at the ceiling. Below the stairs he heard the alien voices. Mr. Bannister roller over and muffled his mouth in the pillow. The marriage bed shook beneath his sobs.