Catfish

by Madelyn Bennett Edwards

  They was dumb-struck, speechless and motionless. They couldn’t even look at each other. They just stared and Henry Van with their mouths open.

  ‘Samuel, and Sammy, my father was a good man,’ Mr. Henry said. ‘I hope I can live up to his reputation and example. If there’s anything I can do for you in the future, come see me. I’m sure we can continue to work together.”

  ‘Thank you, sir,’ Sammy said. ‘Thank you very much, Sir. We’ll never forget your generosity and the goodness of your father.’

  ‘I hope that means you’ll still work for me at the going rate of $15 a week.”

  ‘A week?’

  ‘Yeah. I checked with some of the other land owners and I want to pay what they pay. I don’t want you to leave and go find work somewhere else.’

  ‘No, Sir. We not leaving you. No, Sir,’ Daddy said.

  “I’m happy for you both,” Henry said.

  ‘We so grateful,” Granddaddy said. “We shore are.’ He rose and Mr. Henry stuck out his hand and wrapped it around the skinny black hand, then enclosed it with his other hand.

  ‘You are a good man, Samuel. You stayed with my dad when most of the Negroes ran off. He never forgot that. And you, Sammy. He always had a special place in his heart for you, like a grandson.’

  ‘Thank you, sir,’ Daddy said. They walked slowly out the study door, holding their hats in their hands, eyes down, afraid to look at each other. When they reached the front door of the plantation house, Henry Van reached around and opened it for them.

  ‘Thank you for coming, Gentlemen,’ he said. ‘I’m very happy for you.’

  Speechless, they walked home slowly, each in his own thoughts.

  *

  “That’s how my blessings got started. And I been blessed ever since,” Catfish said. “My parents never let me forget how hard it was to get what they got and to never take it for granted. I know I’m a blessed man.”

  “My daddy married Mary Williams a few months after they got the title to the property and I came into the world a couple years later, in 1901. It was a new time for us, for the Massey family.”

  Catfish finished his story and lay his head back. Within seconds he was snoring.

  Marianne and I giggled and tiptoed off the porch.

  “Your family’s history is amazing,” I said as we walked towards the old barn. “You should be so proud to come from such proud, successful people.” She didn’t answer and it gave me time to reflect on how, for the Masseys, becoming property owners set them free, in a real way.

  I thought about my own bondage, held captive by parents who controlled me with money. I wanted to be my own person, proud of who I was, like Samuel and Sammy were when they got their land deed. It was like a meteor fell on my head that day and I realized the only way for me to achieve the freedom and security like the Masseys found, was to do what they did. They put in an honest day’s work, told Mr. Van what they wanted and were willing to do what it took to get it. I could do that—work hard in school, get my degree and a job in New York—so I could be free of my parents’ control. Maybe then, I could figure out how to be with Rodney.

  I wanted to see him, tell him of my revelation, explain how I felt, and that I believed him when he said that we would be together. I’d been running from that promise. I was ready to tell him I loved him and that I trusted him to make things happen, that I’d quit trying to protect him. So I asked Marianne if I could call him to come over.

  “Why Rodney?” Marianne asked. “That’s not fair. You came to see me. I don’t want to share you.”

  She had grown taller, and more beautiful. Her hair was long, dark and wavy and her eyes were as big as Iris petals, and almost as purple. Nursing school agreed with her because she seemed calmer, more worldly, almost like the chip on her shoulder had grown smaller. I grabbed her hand and squeezed it. I felt proud of my friend.

  “I know, and I want to spend time with you, too, but I’d also like to see Rodney.”

  “What’s going on between the two of you?”

  “Nothing much.”

  “I know better, Susie Burton. I can tell there is something you aren’t telling me.”

  “Well, he came to New York to see me at Thanksgiving. But you can’t tell a soul.”

  “I knew it. I could tell by your face that something glowed inside. Are you in love?”

  “Mari, you know I can’t tell you anything so private.”

  “Why not. Am I still your best friend?”

  “Yes, but you’re Rodney’s cousin. Let’s call it divided loyalties and leave it at that.”

  “Come on, Susie.”

  I refused to tell her any of the details and frankly, even though I knew I was in love I couldn’t tell anyone until I told Rodney—and I was finally ready to do just that.

  Marianne finally relented and called him from Catfish’s phone, the only one in the Quarters.

  Rodney said he drove to the Quarters the back way, without passing in front of my house. Marianne and I were sitting on the ground with our backs against the old barn when he walked up. He and I looked at each other and wondered how to handle Marianne, but she noticed our exchange and said she had some chores to do, she’d be back later. I thought again how much Marianne had grown.

  Rodney looked at me and sighed.

  We climbed into the hayloft and were in each other’s arms immediately. We kissed, then Rodney pulled away and sat against the wall, next to the opened window. I thought he would undress me and make love to me like he did the last time we were together, but he seemed afraid to touch me. I sat next to him and we held hands in the hay.

  After we talked about Christmas, presents, and family, there was not much else to discuss. What we hadn’t shared during our week in New York a month before, we’d talked about on the phone and in letters. I didn’t want to talk, I wanted his arms around me and his body on top of mine, but Rodney seemed distant and unaffectionate.

  Something was wrong. A cloud hovered over us.

  “What are your travel plans?” Rodney asked.

  “My flight leaves Baton Rouge on January third,” I said.

  “Have you told your parents when you’re leaving?”

  “Not specifically.”

  “Do you think you could go to Baton Rouge on the second?”

  “Let me see what I can do. I can take the bus on Sunday. My flight leaves at noon Monday.”

  “That’ll work,” he said. He kissed me passionately, told me he loved me and left. I sat in the hayloft thinking about how I hadn’t been able to share my revelation with Rodney or to tell him that I loved him. He was too preoccupied and I wondered what had happened in the past six weeks to disconnect us from the closeness and intimacy we’d experienced in New York.

  Tootsie was sitting on her porch when I went looking for Marianne. I’d seen her every day at my house, but it was always refreshing to see her in her own environment, sitting in the straight-backed chair, shelling peas into a silver bowl and humming one of her old Baptist hymns.

  “Was that Rodney just leaving?” she asked. She didn’t look up from her bowl of peas but I knew she saw me. She smelled of rose water and rubbing alcohol, which she’d told me she used as under arm deodorant. I remember how I laughed at her concoction but how it explained the unusual scent she carried.

  “Yes. How was your day, Toot? I guess things are busier with Albert?”

  “Oh, it’s okay. You and James is gone now so it’s not much different than before. I just getting older.”

  “You aren’t old, Toot. What are you? About thirty?”

  “Going on thirty-five.” She still looked seventeen to me. I noticed her bulging belly but didn’t ask about it. I hugged her and kissed both cheeks. Marianne walked onto the porch and we headed back out to the cane fields where we wandered in and out of the rows, talking, joking, and catching up. There was nothing like being with Marianne—it was easy and true and honest and I loved her. />
  *

  Daddy insisted on taking me to Baton Rouge after mass on Sunday. We had a late lunch and he dropped me at the airport because I told him I had an afternoon flight. I knew Rodney was in Baton Rouge and I went to a pay phone in the airport and called the number he gave me.

  “Wait an hour,” I told him. “I can’t trust Daddy. It would be just like him to come into the terminal to make sure I’m on the plane.”

  “I don’t think I can wait an hour. I miss you.”

  “After Wednesday I wasn’t sure you still loved me.” He laughed a forced laugh. “Okay, let’s say forty-five minutes.”

  I thought maybe something was wrong, but I shook it off. We were always nervous about meeting in Louisiana and I remembered he’d promised his dad he wouldn’t see me in Jean Ville, ever again. That was probably why he was skittish on Wednesday.

  He picked me up in a cab, afraid someone would recognize his car. The cab dropped us at Rodney’s dorm next to his parked car on the Southern University campus. It was cold, about forty-five degrees and rainy. The dampness in the air and the low clouds above made it feel more like thirty-five. I drew my overcoat around me and tied the sash at the waist. Rod saw me shiver and opened the car door so I could slide in out of the raw weather. He started the car and adjusted the heat then turned towards me. He took my hand and kissed my fingertips, one at a time. Then he turned abruptly and drove off.

  “Where are we going?” I asked.

  “I got a hotel room. I hope you don’t mind. Am I being presumptuous?”

  “I said I wanted to be alone with you, Rod. Am I being presumptuous?” I giggled. He stared ahead. For some reason Rodney seemed nervous, which made me nervous. I tried to make small talk, but we didn’t seem comfortable together. I concluded that a cloud of fear hovered over us when we were together in Louisiana, at least I hoped that was the problem and that nothing had changed between us. I turned the radio on and “I Wish It Would Rain,” was playing. He turned the volume down.

  “Rod? Is something wrong? Do you need to tell me something?”

  “Nothing’s wrong, Baby.”

  “Rod, I’ll understand if there’s someone else. You were here without me for over a year. You’re a hot blooded guy.” He jammed on the brakes and pulled into the parking area at a gas station. He turned the engine off and turned to me, angry.

  “How can you say that? How can you question how I feel about you?”

  “What’s the matter? I’ve never seen you angry. I know something is wrong. There’s something you aren’t telling me.”

  “It has nothing to do with us, Susie. There’s no one else. I haven’t looked at another girl since I met you five years ago. You are all I think about, dream about, care about. How can you question that?”

  “Rod, please calm down and look at me. What’s wrong?” He looked away and didn’t say anything. I thought if I waited, he would talk but he started the car and backed out onto the road. He stared through the front windshield. His jaw was set, his lips clamped in a straight line, his eyes squinted. I could only see his profile but I could visualize the frown wrinkles on his forehead. I felt like he had just run away from me.

  When we stopped, he got out of the car and left it running while he went into the lobby to check in and get the room key. When he came back he pulled the car around to the parking lot, got out and opened the trunk. He took my bag out and swung a backpack over his shoulder; then came to my side of the car and motioned for me to roll down the window.

  “Here’s your key. Room 360. Please give me five minutes, then go straight to the elevators and come up.”

  “Isn’t this the place that looks the other way?”

  “Susie, would you please do what I ask?” I nodded and rolled the window up.

  I watched him walk off and had a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. I waited for about fifteen minutes, until my tears subsided, then I walked into the lobby of the hotel, past the front desk and got on one of the two elevators. When I opened the door to room 360, Rod met me, pulled me into the room and closed the door, quickly. He took both my hands in his. I could see gentleness in his eyes, but there was something else. Something dark and sinister. I was afraid.

  “We had a visit from the Klan last night.”

  “Oh, God. What happened?”

  “They burned a cross in front of our house and wrote nasty things all over it.”

  “What were the accusations?”

  “Leave the white girl alone! Or else. And other stuff you don’t need to know. My dad gave me an ultimatum—go to New York or end it.”

  “What did you tell him?”

  “Susie, I love you, but I can’t go to New York. I don’t have the money. I’d have to drop out of college, give up on my dreams of law school.” Tears ran down his face.

  “Of course you can’t, Rod.” I walked to the window. I didn’t want him to see my face, the tears that welled in my eyes, the thoughts that I tried to deny, If he loved me he’d come with me.

  “I understand.” But I didn’t. Maybe my head got it, but my heart, well, it didn’t. “I would never ask you to give up school, your dreams.”

  He walked up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist. I didn’t want to touch him. It would just make it harder to leave him. I felt his breath on the top of my head and lost all resistance. I turned inside the loop of his arms, faced him and put my hands on either side of his face—his gorgeous, handsome, wonderful face.

  “I don’t want to live the rest of our lives with you fighting for your next janitorial job.” I tried so hard to be brave, level-headed, convincing, but tears began to roll down my face as if a dam broke somewhere inside. And that’s how I felt—like my gut split open.

  Rodney didn’t say anything. He looked at me and pulled me close. My head rested on his chest, and he stroked my hair.

  “How did they find out?” I whispered into his chest.

  “It’s probably a coincidence, but it happened Thursday night, the day after we met in the Quarters.”

  “Who would know?”

  “I’m not sure, but we can never meet in Jean Ville again. It seems like every time we’ve ever seen each other in that town, we’ve been found out. It’s as if there’s a spy watching us. Someone close to us, someone who knows us. We have to be more careful.”

  I pulled away from him, shocked by his last words.

  “Be more careful? Are you crazy? We can’t continue this. We have to give it up. It’s way too risky. We’re being selfish. And you can’t decide that you don’t care what they do to you. What about your family? Remember what they did a few years ago?”

  “Don’t you think that’s been weighing on me?” He dropped my hands and walked to the window, enclosed by heavy drapes. He pulled them open a few inches, stood rigid and stared at the grey sky. I stared at his back and smelled fear swirl in the room. It came from his pores—mine, too.

  Our lovemaking was intense, but sad. We didn’t say it, but we both knew this was the last time. We had to let go of this impossible dream. What were we thinking, anyway? No matter where we lived, our families would always be in Jean Ville, and his family could be in danger, real danger.

  Rodney’s life was more important than any relationship. I knew I’d rather let him go and know he was alive walking on the same earth, than to hold onto him and have him killed.

  When he took me to the airport the next day we didn’t say the words, the look in our eyes said it all.

  Good-bye.

  He told me later that he watched my plane until it disappeared behind the clouds, then he sat on a bench in the corner of the Baton Rouge airport and sobbed.

  Rodney became obsessed with finding out how the Klan got their information. How could anyone know we met in the Quarters that afternoon? We’d only been together for an hour, in the hayloft of an old barn behind Catfish’s house. Who would tell? Surely not anyone who lived there. Who, then? If he could solv
e that mystery, perhaps he could figure out how we could be together without risking danger for his family.

  We talked about it when he called but we never mentioned it in letters. I began to question Marianne’s loyalty, and Tootsie’s. The one person I never questioned was Catfish. He’d never squeal on me. Who then?

  I began to wonder how Daddy always seemed to find out when I went to the Quarters. Who would tell him? Maybe it was the same person, someone connected to Daddy and the Klan—or, was Daddy connected to the Klan? It was a mystery that, unless solved, would mean Rodney and I had no chance of ever being together.

  After I returned to New York, Rodney went back to Southern University and said that he dove into his studies, determined to finish college on time and with honors. He said he had to be accepted into Law School, which was dependent on his grades and the results of his LSAT exam. He decided to concentrate on those goals and to put me and the Klan out of his mind for the time being. He told me later that, in his mind, if he could get a law degree, he could move to New York, but that was almost five years away. What were the odds that we’d still remember each other by then?

  We talked on the phone every month or so and wrote long letters at first. Then the letters got shorter and the time between them longer. I wondered what his life was like, but I didn’t really want to know. We’d decided to move on but I would hear his voice on the other end of the phone and I’d be a mess all over again. I knew we had to stop calling and writing. We needed a clean break.

  It took me six months to get on with my life. I learned later that Rodney eventually moved on, too. Looking back, it was probably the best thing for everyone.

  Part Six: 1970-71

  Chapter Fifteen

  Rodney Moving On

  1970

  ANNETTE DUNNING GRAVITATED INTO Rodney’s life by accident. She worked in the law library as a part-time student on Work-Study. The summer before his senior year he began to go to the library to study for the LSAT and to do research for his final project in Political Science, his major. Annette was helpful. She found the books he needed, allowed him to check out more than allowed and, when he was late returning books, she stamped the correct return date on the ticket.