All the Days Past, All the Days to Come

by Mildred D. Taylor

  There were now four single young men sharing the space downstairs along with Dee and Stacey and the girls. They all also shared the one bathroom. It seemed amazing to me that Dee could keep the house in such order, but she did. The house was always clean and everything in place. Dee saw to that. She had set up housekeeping rules for everybody and they followed them. When all the young men got up, they rolled up the cot, reset the sofa bed, and put away all the bedding. “I might have to work like a mule to get things done,” she said, “but I told all of them, they have to work with me or they better find themselves another place to live.”

  Dee seemed always to be working. With my being back, she decided to clean the wallpaper in the living room, dining room, and Sunday room, a chore she had not tackled since I was last there. Rachel came downstairs to help. With wallpaper cleansing putty, the three of us scrubbed the walls from ceiling to floor, removing the dirt until the wallpaper looked like new again. Dee washed all the curtains in those three rooms as well and had Stacey and Man set up the curtain rack, an eight-feet-long, six-feet-high adjustable frame for drying curtains, which were attached to straight pins embedded all along the frame. The walls and the curtains took several days, but after the walls were cleaned and the newly washed curtains rehung, the floors mopped and waxed, Dee nodded with satisfaction.

  “I just don’t know how you do it,” I told her as I helped hang the wash on lines strung between the house and the ivy-covered garage. “Do all this work and take care of all these people.”

  Dee laughed. “I’m used to hard work.”

  “Yeah, I know, but with four single men in the house?”

  “Just made it clear to them,” Dee said. “There’s some things I’ll do for them, but other things they have to do for themselves. I’ve got one husband I’m taking care of, and my girls. I’m not their wife, and I’m not their mother. They need to take care of themselves and help me keep this house clean. I can’t stand a filthy house.” I laughed; Dee didn’t. “I wasn’t kidding with them! I’ve got two little girls to take care of and I’m teaching them how to take care of themselves, so I’m certainly not going to be cleaning up behind a bunch of grown men.”

  “I admire you,” I said. Together we pulled a sheet from the washtub and folded it to pin on the line. It was a sunshine day and there was a soft wind that blew the fresh wet sheet back against us. As I pushed the sheet away and pinned it, without looking at Dee, I said, “Dee, I think I’m pregnant.”

  Dee, clothespins in her hand, turned toward me. “Really, Cassie? Have you seen a doctor?”

  “Did you ever see one when you thought you were?”

  “No, never. You want to see one?”

  “No. I’ve pretty much had it with doctors.”

  “You tell Flynn you thought you were pregnant?”

  I finished with the sheet and stared out at all Dee’s bright multicolored petunias growing in large flower beds around the house, the garage, and along the fences. “No.” I told Dee about Faye and how things were when I had left Flynn.

  “You know you have to tell him.”

  I was silent.

  “You know you do. It’s not like you don’t love him.”

  “No. It’s not like I don’t love him.”

  “You think he’s been unfaithful?”

  “I just don’t know, Dee. He wouldn’t say.”

  Dee finished pinning a pillowcase on the line and turned to me. “From what you’ve told me about Flynn, you’ve got a good man, a really good man. Whatever’s between you, you need to go back and work it out. Don’t throw it away, Cassie. Like they say, a good man is hard to find. Not only that, I’ve seen a picture of this man and, believe me, he’s not hard on the eyes!”

  We both laughed, and I felt my heart race at the very thought of Flynn.

  * * *

  ◆ ◆ ◆

  When I returned so unexpectedly to Toledo, my brothers and Dee had pretty much guessed there was trouble between Flynn and me. Dee even asked me outright if Flynn had done something to make me leave and Stacey had said, “Dee, it’s not our business.” It wasn’t their business, but I had to tell them something. What I told them was the truth. Flynn and I had had a disagreement. But that was all. Now I had told Dee the full story, but not my brothers. Whether they accepted my explanation or not, they had not questioned me further.

  Now, as I sorted out my feelings about Flynn, I settled back into life on Dorr Street. Clayton Chester had a new white Buick convertible, and I teased him about it. “I suppose being so near to getting your engineering degree and working too, you had to splurge on something. Oh, yes, I heard about you riding all around town with your hair blowing in the wind. Dee wrote me. Heard about all these pretty young ladies riding around with you too. I suppose you wouldn’t want to be taking your big sister for a ride.”

  Little Man smiled at my teasing. “I’ll do you one better, Cassie.” He dug into his pocket, pulled out his keys, and tossed them to me. “Anytime you want to take it out, you got it.”

  I took him up on that. It was fun driving the Buick, top down, when I wanted to get away from the house and be by myself. Sometimes I took ’lois and Rie with me. Sometimes Rachel went with me too. We always had fun together. I noticed that Rachel also went riding with Man, and Rie and ’lois tagged along with them as well, like little chaperones. But both Clayton Chester and Rachel firmly insisted that they were only friends, just as they had been since childhood. We took them at their word, though we speculated that Rachel would be a perfect fit to the family.

  Although I was missing Flynn, I was enjoying my life in Toledo, enjoying the busy days and the family-filled evenings. On some of those late summer evenings when the weather was fine and the house felt stuffy and hot from the heat of the day, all the family both from upstairs and downstairs spilled out onto the tiny back porch and onto the small lawn sandwiched between the house and the garage, and everybody began to talk about back home. Stories that had been told time and time again were now told again, and we all enjoyed the retelling. As Rie and ’lois chased lightning bugs in the soft dusk of the summer evening, I wondered how much of the stories they would remember.

  There were new stories, too, to tell. One was about Joe Louis. Christopher-John told the story. “Cassie, you hear about Man here driving around the champ?” Dee had written me about it but I didn’t know all the details. Christopher-John filled me in. “Seems there was this real pretty young lady Clayton Chester was seeing and she really liked that Buick of his. Her family liked it too. Now, her family was somehow connected with the champ and heard he was coming to town and needed someone to drive him around. That young lady figured Man and his white convertible would be perfect. So, when the champ came to Toledo, it was our little brother here took him all over town. Worked out well for him. Got to meet a lot of important people and got to drive that pretty girl!”

  I turned to Man. “You’ve been doing big things here in Toledo! You still driving that pretty girl around?”

  “No.”

  “No? So, what happened?”

  Man glanced over at Rachel sitting on the porch swing. “You’re looking at her.”

  I smiled and so did everyone else as we all turned to look at the shy Rachel. “I thought you two were supposed to be just friends,” I said.

  “Well, we are friends, always will be.” Clayton Chester gazed at Rachel. “But now we’re getting married.” He got up and went over to his bride-to-be, took her hand, and sat beside her. Rachel was smiling.

  The announcement was welcome news, and everybody heartily congratulated them. They said they had decided to wait until next spring to marry. By that time they hoped there would be a room available upstairs. Both of them figured to work until then and for Man to get his degree. It was a good plan. As I watched them sitting together on the swing, I thought of Flynn and me. My brothers were all happy with the women i
n their lives. Soon we would all be married—as long as I stayed with Flynn. I didn’t know if I would.

  * * *

  ◆ ◆ ◆

  Moe came to visit. Morris was with him.

  “Well, it’s about time you two came to see me,” I said. “I thought you’d forgotten about me.”

  Moe smiled awkwardly. “Could never forget about you, Cassie.”

  I returned the smile and asked of Morris, “So, Little Brother Morris, how are you liking Detroit?”

  “It’s okay.”

  “Just okay?”

  Morris shrugged. “Well, it’s a lot bigger than Jackson. Lot dirtier too.”

  “What about your school?”

  “Rather be going to Lanier.”

  “You don’t like your school?”

  “Well, here’s the thing, Cassie. At Lanier I’d know exactly who I’m supposed to be. I’m colored, everybody else is colored too. I’d run for class president and probably win. I’d play football and likely be captain. I’d take out a pretty girl and she’d probably be homecoming queen. Up in Detroit, Toledo too, I figure, going to school with white folks, I’m not likely to do any of that. White folks won’t have it.” He smiled wide. “But I’m learning, getting myself a good education.”

  “You want to go back south?”

  “No, I’m not saying that.” Morris glanced over at Moe. “I like being here with Moe. Course, I like being home too, being with Daddy and everybody. I miss them. But I’ll be staying here. Moe says I can go to college here, maybe Wayne State, if I want.”

  “Not to a Negro college back home?” I questioned. “Jackson? Alcorn? Tougaloo?”

  Moe stepped in and slapped Morris on the shoulder. “He’s got plenty of time to decide that, Cassie. For right now, he’s just getting himself through high school.”

  “Not all that much time, Moe,” corrected Morris. “I’m going into my senior year. Time I made up my mind about a college. Kind of depends on Daddy and how he’s doing. He’s been feeling more poorly than usual lately. We’re all kind of worried about him. Levis came up in June and took me home and I stayed there for the better part of the summer. Maynard brought me back just last week.”

  “Course, I would’ve liked to have gone south with Morris,” said Moe. “Really wanted to see Daddy, but we all know I can’t.” He was silent a moment, his eyes expressing the pain he felt at being so far from home and unable to return. “A lot of things are hard, but I just have to accept them.” He looked at me as he spoke. “I have to accept a lot of things.”

  It was an awkward moment.

  When we were alone, Moe said, “I never congratulated you on your marriage. I can’t say I was happy about it. I always hoped—”

  “Now, Moe, you know I always told you—”

  “Yeah, I know. You always told me. But, least you found somebody made your heart rush. This guy you married must be something special for you to marry him.”

  I was direct with Moe. “He made me feel what no other man has.”

  “Well, I’m not going to lie and say I’m happy about that. But I will say I’m glad you’re happy.” He studied my face. “Are you happy, Cassie?”

  I took a moment before answering. “Depends on the moment. Body can’t be happy all the time.”

  * * *

  ◆ ◆ ◆

  Several weeks into my stay, Justine called. “You need to come back here,” she announced bluntly. “My brother needs you.”

  “Did he say that?”

  “Naw, he don’t even talk about you. Told me you left him after a fight about Faye and where he was spending his time and that’s all. Told me that the day you left him and he ain’t spoke ’bout you since.”

  “Then why are you calling?”

  “’Cause I know my brother. He made a commitment to you. He married you. He’d never break that commitment, not for Faye, not for anything, not for anybody.”

  “Then why didn’t he tell me Faye was coming to see him while he was working in San Bernardino?”

  “’Cause he was afraid you wouldn’t understand and you’d leave him, but then you up and left him anyway. Cassie, he wasn’t sleeping with Faye, I know that much. Look, this here’s a person-to-person call. I gotta hang up.”

  “All right . . . but, Justine, wait . . . is he all right?”

  “You need to come back here and see for yourself, else somebody like that Faye will move right on in and try to make him all right. I gotta go. Bye.”

  There was a click on the phone and she was gone. I heard nothing further from Justine, but soon after her call I received a letter from Flynn. The letter was only two sentences long. “Justine told me she spoke to you. I want you to come home.” A train ticket was enclosed.

  * * *

  ◆ ◆ ◆

  It was early September when I received Flynn’s letter. I decided to go back to Los Angeles. I supposed I had always intended to go back. The draw to Flynn was too intense for me not to go back. I was certain now I was pregnant and I couldn’t deny him that. I told Stacey I was returning to Los Angeles. “You sure?” he asked. “I don’t know what’s going on, not my business what’s going on between husband and wife, but I want you to be sure. Are you?”

  I nodded. “I’m sure. One thing, though, before I go back, I need to go down home. It’ll be a while before I get this close to home again.”

  Stacey said he would take me down. “Less traveling by train the better,” he said. “I’ll get Man or Christopher-John to go with us.”

  I wrote Mama and Papa to let them know I was coming. I also wrote Flynn and told him I would be coming back to Los Angeles, but I didn’t know when. I was going to Mississippi first.

  * * *

  ◆ ◆ ◆

  It was good for me to be home again. It was good to go to bed early and rise in early morning long before dawn to take care of the animals, to feed the cows and the hogs, the chickens and the guineas, to milk the cows and gather the eggs. It felt good to carry wood from the log pile to the wood-burning stove, and to tend the fireplaces before bed on a chilly night. It felt good to ride the new horse, named Lady, after the horse of my childhood, and even ride old Jack, the mule of my childhood. It felt good to walk through the forest down to the pond, take off my shoes and slip my bare feet into the cool water, and wonder at the dear, dear old trees all around. It felt good to walk the land. It felt good to sit at the long table, even though it felt empty without the boys, and to rejoice in Big Ma’s cooking, to sit in front of the fire at night or on the front porch on warmer evenings, to talk about the day, to talk about the past, and even to venture into the future.

  I told Mama I thought I was pregnant.

  She smiled wide. “Oh, that’s good,” she said.

  I shook my head. “I don’t know. Flynn hasn’t been truthful with me.”

  Mama gave me a look. “Then make him be. You love him, right?”

  I conceded to that. There was no denying that I loved Flynn.

  “Then whatever you think he’s done, you talk it out with him and, between you, make it right. I did that with your papa when we were young, married, and separated, and I’ve never regretted it.”

  I looked incredulously at Mama. I had never heard this before. “What? You mean to tell me, you and Papa . . . What was it about? Why’d you separate?”

  “Not your business,” Mama stated curtly. “Point is, we both got past it. So, whatever’s going on between you and Flynn, you’ve got to get past it, and not just for the baby’s sake, but for the two of you in this union.”

  Big Ma agreed. I didn’t have to tell Big Ma I was pregnant. She had already guessed. “No matter what, Cassie. Long’s he’s a good man, you need to figure a way to keep yo’ family. Ain’t nobody ever said it was gonna be easy. Long’s he ain’t hittin’ on you, disrespectin’ you, or doin’ some ungodly thin
g, you need to stand by this man. You love this man, he love you, y’all gotta work to make this marriage sound. Ain’t nothin’ worthwhile come without work and that’s the same in marriage, same’s anything else.” Now Mama knew and Big Ma knew. I was waiting for the right time to tell Papa.

  I lingered for several weeks at home and felt my clothes getting tighter. I couldn’t zip my skirts all the way up, and there was no point in trying to button up a dress. I wore cardigan sweaters to cover the gaps. I should have gone shopping for maternity clothes while still in Toledo but I had put it off, thinking I would not need to go shopping until I was back in Los Angeles. Now I had to get some new clothes, and as much as I hated it, I decided to go shopping in Jackson. I asked Papa to take me. I went first to look for dresses on Farish Street, but couldn’t find anything I liked. I decided to look for something on Capitol Street. At one of the department stores I found several dresses that suited me. They were not maternity dresses, just larger sizes. I did not want to show up at the train station in Los Angeles and meet Flynn in maternity clothes before actually telling him my news. I took the dresses over to the saleslady.

  “You ready to buy those?” she asked.

  “No. I’d like to try them on first.”

  The woman’s look was condescending. “You know our policy.”

  Yes, I did know their policy. Colored folks could buy clothes, our money was welcomed, but we could not try on the clothes. I had known the policy since I was a child, but it was now 1950, not 1933. A war had been fought and colored men had fought in that war and colored women had served in that war. I thought maybe, just maybe, there could have been some changes made about policy. But nothing was changing here, not in Mississippi.