In the colder seasons he wore secondhand shoes from the barter store. He had so many places to go to do his piecemeal jobs that it was never long before the soles were flapping at the bottom of his feet. When Odessa had no work in the winters, they made do with newspapers in worn shoes. When it stormed or snowed, and there was no newspaper, sometimes he went barefoot because he was embarrassed to be seen by others at school or work. One day, after it had rained, Mz. Rose saw him come sneaking into the classroom with mud squishing between his toes.
Rose exclaimed, “Oh, Lord!” and went immediately into her house to get an old pair of her father's boots. As she was leaving the room she said to her small class, “First one laughs will have to clean boards and erasers for a whole week. No laughing at being poor in my class. We are all poor!”
Herman studied the books Rose gave him at school. Thoroughly. Remembering his mother's words, how she always talked of wanting him to go to school. “It gonna be ya only way to somethin! Ya only way.” At first that is why he went. Rut he had a bright, quick mind, and soon he went for the pleasure he found in learning.
By nature he was reserved and serious. He listened hard, then studied intently, and learned quickly. After learning how to read, and understand well, he found all books interesting. He worked two months at the bookshop for a newly published book on auto mechanics. In a year or two he was even loaned some of Tante's thick books of learning.
As time passed, Rose began to speak to him about college. He put that out of his mind as an impossibility. In the meantime, Rose was excited about being in love and planning her marriage, at that time, to Leroy.
(I have already told you about those times, but we are at the beginning of Herman's story, and I have to tell it this way so you understand what was happening to them at the same time. It's my way of telling-, I'm not trying to confuse you, just trying to tell you something.)
Time was moving along; President Roosevelt's New Deal was working for many people.
(I loved President Roosevelt. Ain't hardly been another one like him.)
Still, a few people slipped through the cracks, as is always the case. Do not think Herman was making much money; he made little money, but he learned. Sometimes he did grown-man-size jobs; his employers chose to think he was “still a child,” and pay him that way. But he worked, and he learned.
Herman would think, “I have so little to help my mama, besides a little food, and a piece'a roof.” He heard her every night, on her knees praying, and crying when she thought he was asleep. He didn't know if she was crying for his father, or crying because she was hungry. It gave him a pain in his heart that never left him.
She didn't eat much, in order for Herman to have more. She was working less, because she was ill, and had been for a long time. She never complained out loud. But it is a terrible, hard thing to hear your mother cry. Tears would slide from his own eyes down his cheeks to the rough mattress, softly, quietly. He didn't know he was crying for the same reason Odessa was crying; about life. Just life.
Odessa was happy about one thing; Herman was in some school. “It ain't the big white school that lets coloreds come to it. But if you learn the ABC, it don't matter where at you learned em!”
She would go by to offer Rose some small offering, but Rose looked at the tired, overworked woman, old before her time, and burdened with the weight she had carried, alone, for so long. Rose tried to think of something to give Odessa without it appearing to be charity.
She would make a mental note to pick up a decent coat, and some sweaters, at the secondhand store. She thought, “I can pretend they are old things of my mother's I have been planning to give away for a long time.”
Odessa was beginning to feel mighty low lately. Worse than ever before, and she had suffered many pains doing men's jobs. She didn't know why, or what was causing her loss of energy. She didn't even have any appetite. “I neva did think I wouldn't be ready to eat anythin. Hungry as I been!”
She had so many ailments acquired over the last, long years doing all kinds of hard work. Of course, she had no money for a doctor. So she just lived, and worked with the pain in her stomach, sides, and back. No good nutrition, no medical attention, and unnecessary worry about her son finally helped the thing growing in her body to take it over, and kill her.
She died when Herman was about eight or ten years old. By that time Herman was working pretty steadily at the several odd jobs he had acquired with Rose and Joseph's help.
Something ran through Herman's mind daily now. “I want something that is mine; nobody else's, just mine. Like my mama was mine. I've got'a have something that is mine!”
He wanted to die and lie beside her in the homemade box that was her coffin. Herman had built the coffin of plywood he was allowed on credit at the lumberyard. Odessa was almost tiny by the time of her death. Rose and Bertha had lined the box, quickly, with quilting and a lovely piece of shiny material.
When she was buried, Herman made a simple cross to place at the head of her grave in a potter's field for the poor. Rose was going to take her out to Wings's family and have her buried in the beauty of the reservation. But Herman cried it would be too far for him to go see her often enough.
After she was buried Herman went to the graveyard two or three times a week to sit by his mother's grave until it got too dark and cold. He was quiet and thoughtful during this time of mourning, always staring off into the distance. “I don't got nobody now. I want something of my own; something belongs to me.”
There was an old, shaggy brown dog that hung around the general area of Herman's house. He had often given the dog the slim scraps from his own meals, because he liked the friendliness of the dog's eyes. He called the dog “Buddy,” and took him home with him. The dog, usually wary of young boys, answered his calling, followed him, and slept on the shaggy mattress beside Herman, under his arm. They trusted each other. Both needy hearts had a friend.
Finally Herman had to turn to the only person he thought he could turn to in town, Aunt Peachy. Herman did not want to go to her when his rent was up and due. His mother had suffered the arrows and wounds of hurtful words from Aunt Peachy. But he thought he had no one else. Actually, he had other friends.
Peachy had come to Odessa's funeral because she said, “I don't want no talkin goin round this town bout me and kin-folks!” After the brief funeral she had told Herman, “Well, boy, I know you ain't got no place to go, so if you jes has to, we'll find some place for you at the house. Ya can work and feed yourself cause I ain't got much to feed my own family. But come on if you has to. You need to quit that school-goin, and get ya a real job! Ya old enough for somethin!” Herman didn't want to go to her house then.
Herman held out for a long time. He continued to work, and he saved his money, little as it was. But when winter came he couldn't keep sleeping out under a tree or in anything he could find to crawl into. Brokenhearted, feeling like he'd rather die, he went to his Aunt Peachy's house.
She was sitting at her kitchen table gossiping with a friend as she chewed and sucked on a chicken bone. She looked at Herman, laughed, and said, “Well, boy, I thought ya had done married, and done moved in with somebody or somethin!”
(She was taunting that boy!)
Herman said nothing, just shifted from one foot to another, quietly.
“Well, open ya mouth, boy! Tell me somethin. What ya plannin on doin here? I can't have no lazybones hangin on me. You workin?”
“Yes'm, a little.”
“We don have no money here, so.” She paused, silent a moment. “Ya see this here room on the back porch? The one your ma used before?” Herman nodded in silence. “Well we gon try to round ya up some bedclothes, and you can make a pallet out there … for awhile. Ya think ya gonna be here long? Cause this house too small for too many peoples. We's already full, ya can see.” She turned to look at her guest, saying, “Lawd, where is my brother when I needs him.”
(She lied, for nothing. Never had a brother.)
> She looked back at Herman. “Go on, boy, go on an look that porch over, see is it alright. And ya ain't gonna keep no dog here in my house. This a clean house!”
Herman's heart plummeted to the bottom of his soul, and fell into the pit of tears always waiting there. He took a deep breath, and said, “It'll be just fine, Aunt Peachy, it'll be just fine. I'll move first chance I get.” As he made up his mind at the same time to try to find some way to keep his dog, Buddy. He thought, “That's my buddy. How am I gonna let him go away?”
His aunt kept talking. “Quicker than that, son, cause ya got to quit that school ya be goin to, and get ya a real job, like a man!”
“Yes'm.” He went onto the back porch, and sat down on the floor to think. He looked through the torn screen covering the back porch. He sat for a long time, tears filling his eyes, thinking, “I want somethin of my own. Just mine.”
The dog hung around the different neighborhood in spite of the kicks and rocks thrown at him. Buddy learned when, and where, to hide, to stay close to his friend who continued to bring him food scraps he was stealing from his self, and Aunt Peachy.
In a very short time Herman arranged to be night watchman at the lumberyard, so his dog could rest warm and safe there. Pay was extremely low, but he didn't care. He had his dog, and his regular jobs that kept him afloat. He just wanted a place to be safe in with Buddy off the streets, and not at Aunt Peachy's.
And he didn't quit school like Aunt Peachy wanted. Instead, he paid more attention to his studies than ever. He went to Rose's school. Now and again he brought Rose and Juliet wildflowers when his eyes were caught by their bright colors against the green foliage. He liked them because they liked, and fed, Buddy.
He watched Leroy and Rose living together in their home. He marveled, yet, at the beauty a family could be. When he learned about Tonya being Leroy's girlfriend again, he saw something bad coming out of all of it; but he did not know how much he did not know. He stayed out of everyone's business. (That boy had some sense!)
He did everything Rose told him to do; read everything she thought he should. He still did some work at the bookstore, so he was able to get books at reduced prices. Rose and Bertha both fed him when he let them. He liked them to wrap up whatever food they were giving him so he could share it with his Ruddy.
Time passed quickly, as it always seems to in hindsight, and Herman became very accomplished in all his studies. Rose, having fewer students now that she was married and a mother, helped him all she could. She wrote many letters seeking help. Finally, she helped him get a scholarship to a newly established African American junior college in Oklahoma to help him round off what he needed to get registered in a three-year college for a degree.
Herman had saved his money. He had gone without almost everything but the bare essentials, as usual. Rut he persevered; on his way … somewhere.
His Ruddy, though well fed, was old, and had many injuries from kicks and the blows from stones thrown at him through his life. He was now crippled. Who knows what all people do to a defenseless animal. He was in pain most of the time. Ruddy looked at his friend with so much love in his eyes it seemed to flow out of them and cover Herman.
Joseph told Herman he must take Ruddy into the woods and shoot him. “That dog'll shorly live a painful life full of suff'rin an such, less'n ya put em to sleep fore ya go. Take my gun and go on back up in the woods, and put Ruddy out his mis'ry.”
Herman cried, Rose and Juliet cried. Finally Joseph did it, Herman couldn't. Herman was about seventeen, I reckon it to be. I ain't positive, but I reckon.
After two years, he had a B.A. degree, and his money ran out. He enlisted in the navy (See the World!), seeking a way to complete his education. After three years he came home. Twenty-something years old. He wasn't sure where “Home” was, but he had saved his money, as usual. He got his own place; a small shotgun house in good repair, in a decent neighborhood where Blacks were allowed. He had been gone about five or six years.
To get his new home ready, he shopped for a few things he wanted in his own place, and filled the tiny refrigerator and shelves with food. Fresh new sheets were on the bed he had bought for himself.
He stood at the window looking out at the street, and the sky filled with fluffy, happy clouds. Herman smiled. He felt good. He had a degree. He was also a certified mechanic. He was home. The only home he knew.
Now he decided to go out to see Rose, Bertha, Juliet, and Joseph; his friends. And he decided to look in on his old jobs; his living. Thinking, “I'll think about getting back to college, after I rest a bit. Let's see what is going on since I left this place. Wideland. How wide did it get?” He laughed to himself. “I am home.”
He was welcomed back with opened arms by everyone. Rose looked tired, but smiled with pride at all Herman's accomplishments. Mostly she was just glad he was home safe. He looked with a little surprise at Myine. He smiled, saying, “You were so small when I left. You are a very beautiful little lady. I'm gonna have to wait for you to grow up and marry me.”
Myine folded her hands behind her back, and answered with a smile. Everyone laughed.
He went to talk with Bertha and Juliet, who just grinned all over herself. Juliet was happy to see him. “Oh, Herman! You have gotten even more handsome!” Rose and the young Myine had followed him to Bertha's house.
Rose chimed in, “He sure is. You thinking about getting married, Herman? These girls around here will go crazy about you! And you're going to have a job forever, being a mechanic. Every car in town needs some work done on it.”
They stayed there talking about an hour. Then Joseph came in for his lunch. Herman could see Joseph was really tired. He had worked hard all his life. He showed all the years he carried, and the scuffling he had done for his family to survive. Life hadn't improved that much for Joseph. His lack of education kept him at a sorry low level. They didn't even pay him fairly for the work he could, and did, do. Naturally the men talked a little man-talk about war, and making a living now in Wideland.
Joseph told Herman about how Wideland had grown and changed, especially the night life. “They got some real nightclubs here now. A few of em even have live music! Oh, they got some new kinder ways to get ya money now. Womens just be hangin out in them places all the time. You got to be careful, Herman, cause ya just the thing they be lookin for!”
Everyone laughed, but Joseph. Joseph nodded his head, saying, “I mean it! Ya gon have to be careful out here now! All kinds'a people is makin more babies than they is money! They needs help! They's on the look-out!”
The child Myine, maybe seven or eight years old, laughed lightly at the words because the grown-ups did. Then as Herman and the others said their good-byes, Juliet just looked at Herman all the way to the gate and beyond. She was wishing she could go down to all those places where everybody was out there looking for a mate.
Soon, Herman checked on his old job at the automobile repair shop. It was still small, but he said his hellos to everyone, and went by the new garage Joseph had mentioned to him. Larger, brightly lighted, and busy, it was named Pink's Automobile Shop. He spoke with the manager, who had frowned when Herman first mentioned employment; well, Herman was a Black man, and everyone knew they were just manual laborers.
Herman explained most of the things he could do, and where he had learned. At the end of his speech the manager was nodding. “Yes, we can sure use somebody like ya. And ya can fix boats, too, huh? Well sure, ya got a place here then.” Herman left, saying, “I'll let you know for sure, after I get a few days of rest.” The manager's eyes followed Herman as he left the building. He was a little stunned that the Black man had those skills, but they really did need someone with Herman's skills.
He proceeded to find the nightclub Joseph had spoken of. The Lark's Club. His eyes had to get used to the darkness inside. The club was really crowded, and it was early afternoon! And it was full of the ladies Joseph had spoken of. Some of them were attractive, most were not. Herman smiled to him
self, thinking, “I'm not looking for a wife anyway. That's a looong way off from now.”
He took a stool at the bar, and while sipping on a beer he just looked around, gauging the place, listening to the jukebox; it was too early for the musicians to play. He listened to, and laughed with, the women who came up to talk to him. Finally, he bought a drink for one of them, named Wanda.
He refused the gambler who proposed a “little game.” He had smiled at him, saying, “Don't know how, partner. Don't know how. Never do anything if I don't know how.” The gambler had walked away with his crooked dice, but he couldn't argue with that smile.
Herman was just passing time, looking at Wideland. When he left a few hours later, he had decided he would return one day. It was something to do, some place to go to talk to people.
The days passed slow and relaxed. Comfortable. No rushing done by anyone Herman met. He went back to see Rose a few times. He could tell she was not happy, but she didn't seem to want to talk about it. He left her a couple hundred dollars. “That's not much, I know. But it's just for now. So you can help some kid like you helped me.”
He took a few gifts to Juliet. Pretty gifts. Girl gifts. Makeup, hair curlers, flowers, bangles, and beads. Even perfume. Bertha said, “You spoilin her, Herman!” Herman replied, “She will never be spoiled. She has too much sense for that. And she is pretty, and deserves little things like these.”
Juliet repeated those words to herself over and over, for many weeks; even months. She remembered the words when Dreaming Cloud, now called simply “Cloud,” came to bring her tree bark, wildflowers, and various things of beauty for her baskets from the reservation.
Cloud was a strong-looking Indian brave, but he was not strong. He coughed, lightly, but often. He didn't seem sick; his eyes were bright, his cheeks rosy and smooth. But the cough was always with him.
Cloud was a very gentle man. He was usually shy, and embarrassed around strangers, even after he knew them awhile. But he had liked Juliet a long time by now. Juliet was still sharing with him reading, drawing, and dreaming. She even read fairy tales with him sometimes. Even though they both knew there were no things like these, they both liked the idea of golden apples and beautiful horses that could fly.
Life is Short But Wide Page 9
