The woman reached the top of the steps, breathing heavily. Rose lifted her hand in the direction of the swing. “Would you like to rest a minute?”
The woman took a deep breath, tried to smile, said, “Sure would … and a cup of water, if ya please.”
Rose nodded, saying, “You just sit right there. I'll be right back.”
While Rose was gone, the woman settled herself on the swing, gingerly. She was a large woman, and any sudden movement would have made the swing unsteady.
Rose returned and, handing the glass of water to her visitor, asked, “What may I do for you, ma'am?”
“Well, you can let me get my breath. It's hot and ya just gave me the water. And them steps was a lil bit hard on me this evenin.”
Rose smiled, and moved toward a small stool, saying, “I'll just sit on this stool while you get ready to tell me.”
The woman fanned herself with one hand, and drank the water in the other hand. She handed the glass back to Rose, saying, “Ya' a mighty bless'd woman! I hear ya haves a little house … sittin out here, empty!” She turned to look at the little house Rose used as a classroom. “And that is jes what I needs to talk to ya about.”
Rose opened her mouth to speak when the lady spoke again. “I got a daught'a, a grown daught'a, and she got a husband who works at the hospital (she said this proudly), a good steady job! All they need is to rent a nice lil place like yourn.”
She leaned closer to Rose as she said, “I seen you at church … sometime, and I knows you are a good, kindly lady. Ever'body say so. My name is Alberta Wilson. I knows you is Rose Strong. Your daddy passed on not too long ago, and your sister done left you here all on your own to take care this here place all by yoursef. I can help ya!”
“I use that house for my classroom.”
Alberta Wilson asked, “You got any pupils?”
“Not too many, but enough.”
Alberta Wilson smiled. “Well, it's summertime now, and everbody is out of school for a lil while. All we need is a place for a lil while. You can use the rent, can't ya? These hard times is lastin for years, ain't they?”
Rose frowned as she answered, “Everybody can use money. How long would they be here?”
The woman sighed, carefully sitting back on the swing. “Oh, not so long … two weeks? A month?”
“Why don't they stay where they are, if that's all the time they need?”
“Cause they stayin with me, and childrens don't pay their mama no rent.”
Rose had to smile. “Your daughter got a lot of furniture? That's a small house.”
“She ain't got too much. Her stuff got burnt up in a fire.”
“They smoke?”
The woman heard the alarm in Rose's voice. Shaking her head, she said, “No, no. Just a fire was somebody else fault. I don't like them smokers either!” Mrs. Wilson reached her hand out to Rose, saying, “Chile, ma'am, I don't know if you has ever needed somethin in these hard times everbody is havin, but, PLEASE, please, don't say no. God will surely bless ya for helpin his childrens in need.”
Wishing she could talk to Bertha, Rose took a deep breath, and looked at her classroom that someone was always trying to take from her use for their use. It was around 1936, the depression was still going on. She had no help since Wings had died but the little money Tante sent, and a little pay from her students. Rut her students struggled to pay five or ten cents a lesson. And she always prepared something for them to eat because she knew they were hungry, and that's why they came with their little nickels and dimes. Well, she thought now, “if it's only for two weeks or a month.” She said, “How much are you planning on paying for two weeks?”
“Oh, ma'am, at least a month, please, ma'am. How some much ya askin for?”
“Nothing, don't want to rent it.” Rut she was beginning to feel sorry for Alberta Wilson.
“How much'll you take?” Alberta sensed the weakness in Rose.
Rose's heart felt sorry for Alberta, but her mind didn't want to. “How about ten or fifteen dollars a month?”
Alberta almost laughed, but this was too serious. “For that there lil house?! We ain't tryin to buy it, jes rent it.”
Rose didn't laugh either. “You need it?”
“How about four dollars? An that's a lot!” Alberta hastened to add, “They ain't gonna be here that long.”
“When they need to move in?”
“Tonight, sometime. And he'll, her husban will do a lil work round here to help ya. Everbody wit some land always needs a lil help do in somethin.”
“They can spend their time working for themselves, and looking for another place to rent. Is that right?”
Alberta nodded her head quickly. “Tha's right!”
“Well I'll rent it for a month. My overseer will help see you all in when you come.” She knew people needed to know someone was with her, so she was talking about Joseph.
“Ya'r overseer?”
“Yes, the man who looks after this land. He lives on this land. He sees everything happening on this land.”
Mrs. Alberta Wilson looked off in the distance for a moment, then said, “Don't ya worry none, ma'am. We c'n do it. Do it need a key?”
Rose stood up, saying, “I'll open it for you now, but I'll keep the key. You don't have to worry about any lock; it's safe here, and I don't want any new holes put in that door for a new lock … for just a month.”
Sometimes you just be trying to take a little breather in life and darn if something else don't pop up. It may look alright, but it don't always turn out alright. Somebody always lookin for a place to lean on. My mother knew Mrs. Wilson-, said she wasn't too bad, but she wasn't too good either. And her daughter, Ethel, would argue with God if he let her.
Late that night the couple, twenty-five-year-old Ethel Moore and forty-year-old Will Moore, moved in the little house. There wasn't too much noise. But Will was a large man with a large voice that boomed out over the land in the stillness of the night.
They were only there one whole day before Ethel forgot everything Alberta Wilson had admonished them about. The arguments started.
Rose walked over to Bertha's the next day to ask her about the new people. “Do you know this tenant's mother, Alberta Wilson? She says she goes to our church.”
Bertha laughed lightly. “I know her, but she too nosy and gossipy too much. I don't talk to her too much. She even have ask me about you; lots of times. She members your mother, but they wasn't close or nothin. I don't know the daughter, Ethel, none at all.”
Rose and Bertha, each in their own house, had heard the argument the new people had. Bertha looked scared when she said, “Lawd, I thought for sure that two-hundred-pound man would kill that little one-hundred-pound woman. It sure sounded like it. She didn't even sound scared of that man!”
“Sure didn't,” Rose rejoined. “But I'd take more care with him, if I was her!”
Bertha said, “I watched out for um this mornin. The husband left for work like nothin happened, and I seen Ethel empt'in the night slop-jars this morning, too. Everybody is still alive.”
Miffed, Rose said, “Well they ought to be ashamed. She was yelling as loud as he was. Louder! Her voice rattles through the air. I'm going to be glad when their month is up and they are moving out!”
Bertha, thinking of the help the big man might be to her husband, said, “Maybe they was just tired, and hungry from movin. Juliet stayed up and listen at um most the night.”
Rose noticed Juliet listening, and decided to say less in front of the young lady. Juliet's infirmity, and the fact that she was always sitting still in a chair, made Rose think of her as a child. So she just answered, “Maybe so; I hope so!”
Bertha went to hug her daughter, saying, “You know, she makes a few dimes a day with her baskets now? She make em out of everthin. Peoples comes by and ask her bout them baskets! Even some white folks who still got some money.”
“Good! Keep up that good work, girl! You'll be taking care your own self one
of these days! And that's the best thing you can learn. You see anything you want on this land for those baskets, you just take it. I'm glad to see you making your own money.”
Juliet waved them off, wishing they wouldn't treat her like a child because of her infirmity, saying, “Aww, I'm not gettin rich! A few pennies's ain't nothin but a few pennies's.” She changed the subject. “I got those books you loaned me, Aunt Rose. I finished em. Can I get a few more? I like the lying history books, but I like the philosophil books, too. I can't understand all the words, but I'm waitin for that dictionary you said you was gonna get for me.”
Bertha butt in, “Hush, chile! She already doin a'plenty for us.”
“It's all right, Bertha. I understand. But I have to wait until the new class starts to see what I can harvest. That reminds me, I've got to plant some food so I can eat these next few months. Something beside those canned goods we made last year, Bertha.”
Bertha wearily smiled. “Yeah, work is never finish. Always got some more to do. Got to eat, got to eat.”
As the days passed, adding up to the month for the temporary tenants, Rose was watchful. The arguing never stopped unless he was at work, or they were asleep. Every evening, deep into the night, sometimes starting again early in the morning before he left for work. Weekends were the worst.
The angry, violent sounds were making everybody sick and tired of the noise. The air, once so peaceful and serene, even if poverty was staring you in the face, was now rent with ugly, angry words. Everyone's peace was gone. Everyone waited for Monday when Will would be gone back to work.
Rose once spoke to Bertha. “I can't hardly stand this much more. I sleep, still listening for him to hit her.”
Bertha answered, “I can't sleep my own self. I done passed my limit long time ago. Joseph don't hear nothin when he sleeps. But I ain't sure it's the man's fault. That lil woman makes a lot of noise in a real mean voice.”
Three weeks went by the same way. On the last week of the month the Moores were to stay in the little house, Rose went to speak with Ethel. “There is one more week left in our agreement, Mz. Ethel. I hope you all have found another place.”
“No, ma'am, we haven't, but we lookin ever day.”
Rose frowned. “I hope so, because I can't take all that arguing, fighting, and yelling and cursing anymore. You all are driving everyone round here crazy!”
Ethel tilted her little head, said, “I know, I know. Cause he drives me crazy, too. I poligizes to ya, Mz. Rose. He just workin hard, and scared this pression is go in on for too long.”
“Well, for the little time you have left here, tell him to try and keep his voice down, please. And you can work on yours also.”
Ethel said in a meek, soft voice, “Yes'm, I sure will.”
At the end of the month, they hadn't moved, didn't seem about to. Ethel came to see Rose, saying, “We ain't got no new place yet, Mz. Rose, but I blive we almos do. Let me give ya this money …”
Rose said, angrily, “I don't want your money. I want you all to move so I can get some peace. Every evening and every weekend is ruined! Full of nothing but your arguing! How can you live that way?”
Ethel tilted her little head, looked sorrowfully down at her feet and said, “It's mighty hard on me, I can't tell ya how sorrow I am, to have to live this here way. I never like to argur; never like to fuss and cuss. Not used to it. My mama and papa got along jes fine. But since I been wit him, married, I don't get no peace neither. Pleasssse take this here money, Mz. Rose, please. Else I have to worry bout that, too. “We gonna find a place. Jes give us one more month …”
Rose was aghast. “Another month!? No, Lord! Don't take any more time than you need to find another place. Have you asked the new minister? Your mother knows everybody!”
“I don't know him, yet.”
“Your mama does!”
Ethel held her hand with the money out, saying, “Take half.”
Rose looked into the sad, darkened eyes of Ethel, and said, “I'll take one dollar, but you better move. I hate to tell you this, because you have enough trouble; but you married him. Take one more week, and then I'm going to the sheriff. I'm going to have some peace, or someone is going to be sitting in jail, or on the street with no peace. And I mean it!”
Ethel walked away with her head bowed down, thinking, “That ole bitch! Just cause she got a house, and some kinder edukertion, she want to treat peoples like they's dogs!” But it was quiet that night. Everyone rested, even Will Moore.
The next evening, after work, Will Moore had a visitor, and he brought him to meet Rose.
Evenings were Rose's lonesome time. She looked through her window when she heard the two men approaching her porch. She didn't want to answer the door, but it could be that the handsome man with Will might want a reference for their rent application. She sighed and answered the door.
Will smiled at her, while she searched for all that anger and any signs of violence in his face; she did not see it. “I'm a poor judge of men,” she thought. Will indicated his friend with his hand, saying, “Mz. Rose, I know I'm gonna be leavin here soon, but I been workin with my friend here. He a good friend, a good person, and I wanted ya to know who was comin by here to help us find a place. His name is Leroy, Leroy Aimes. Leroy, this here is my landlady, Mz. Rose.”
Rose had been looking at Will as he spoke; she was thinking of them moving soon. Now, she looked at Leroy. She remembered him from somewhere. He was a tall, handsome, brown-skinned man. He had a dimpled smile which showed off his shiny white teeth and strong chin to good advantage. Dark attractive eyes with long, sweeping lashes completed his face of promising romance.
On closer inspection a wiser person might have seen that his agreeable smile, his air of sympathy and interest, his carefully worked-out laughter, even his smile, were studied, practiced.
Will said a few more words, “He the mos poplar man at my job. We works together! He the supe'visor of the janitors, under the white boss, of course.”
“He is going to help you find another place to rent?” Rose asked, looking at the neatly combed dark hair atop the playful, yet serious dark eyes. She thought, “He is handsome. So many new men are moving to Wideland.”
“Well, yes'm, Mz. Rose.”
Rose answered, looking into Leroy's eyes, “Good. We need some efficiency around here! How are you doing, Mr. Aimes?” Rose was thinking as she looked at his clean-shaven face, his crisp white shirt, open at the collar.
She looked down at his shoes; her mother had always said you can tell a lot about a man from his shoes; they must be clean and polished. His shoes were highly polished, and not run over. She didn't show her impression on her face. Her mother had also said, “When it comes to a man, keep most of your thoughts to yourself.” But she thought, “Why, he's beautiful!” He reached out to shake her hand; she saw his long tapered fingers and clean fingernails.
Leroy spoke in a soft baritone. “I've seen you at church, but you never look at anybody, and you always leaving right after the service.”
Rose tried to smile and say “Yes,” but she was suddenly very nervous. Tingly, with a tremor of excitement.
Leroy pointed at a section of the fence seen from the porch. “You got somebody to help you patch that fence, Mz. Rose? Is it Mrs. Rose or Miss Rose?”
Rose blushed in spite of herself, and thought of Tante for some reason. “Yes. It's Miss. Rose Strong, and yes, I do have someone, Joseph, but he is so busy he just didn't get to it yet.”
“I might be able to get to it for you. I just want to do something for you, Mz. Rose, to show my preciation for you help in my friend. Anything you need. You are such a nice lady, livin here all alone. And I understand you are a very kind person, too.”
Rose smiled, but said, “Well, thank you. But I'll see when Joseph plans to get to it. Thank you, anyway.”
They said their good-byes then, and Rose watched them walk away toward the little shotgun house. Leroy had a lazy walk, casual. His body was
loose and relaxed. Rose thought, “Is that what they call sexy?”
She thought about Leroy all that evening. She didn't run over to tell Bertha about her visitor; she kept her thoughts to herself, and they were warm in her heart. She thought about herself. “I am twenty-five and a half years old. I need a man, a husband. They even have automobiles in the streets here in Wideland, and I still don't have a husband. I need to keep my eyes looking up instead of looking down; maybe I'd see someone sometime. Where'd all these men come from anyway? To work? Here?”
Before that week was over, the tenant, Will Moore, died. Hypertension heart attack.
Rose said, “All that fussing and arguing killed that man!”
Bertha shook her head sadly. “I'm shur glad I got Joseph; a peaceable man! And that poor lady; all alone in the world now.”
Rose tightened her lips. “She got her mother. And I can't put her out before she buries her dead husband.”
Bertha agreed. “No, I wouldn't do that.”
“She can't pay me and bury him, too.”
Bertha looked closely at Rose. “So … I reckon this week is gonna be free?”
“Nobody gives me anything free! I have to eat and buy ice for my icebox just like everybody else!”
Bertha placed her hand on her friend's shoulder. “Well, the Lawd will bless ya for your help in them, now the Lawd done called him away to heaven.”
Angry and defeated, Rose stood up, saying, “Nobody called him away! He kept himself upset and angry all the time! It killed him. God does not want anybody like him arguing up in heaven.”
“Hush, chile.”
Rose, exasperated, said, “Well, it's true! The Bible I read says everybody is not going to heaven!”
Bertha was alarmed. “The preacher say they is.”
“Who you believe, Bertha, the preacher or God? The Bible speaks for God. The preacher can only speak for himself!”
Bertha replied, “Well, I rather know what God say.”
Life is Short But Wide Page 6
