Part 14 (2/2)

'I'd like to speak to Madge Perkins in room 202,' I said.

'She's out,' the voice said impatiently.

I hesitated. 'Do you know when she'll be back?'

'Don't know,' the voice said, and hung up.

I went out, turned around, and drove down on the same side as the hotel, parked several doors up the street, and waited. That way I'd see her when she came in. I got a swing programme on the radio and puffed a cigarette. People pa.s.sed, glanced at me, then turned to stare with hard hostility when they saw I was a Negro. It was a rebbish neighbourhood, poor white; I'd have felt much better parked in Beverly Hills.

After a while I became conscious of somebody watching me. I looked around, didn't see anyone. Then I noticed that I was parked in front of a rooming house. Someone inside, maybe the landlady, had noticed the car, and several faces were peering furtively around the corners of the curtains in the front room. It made me nervous. I knew if I stayed there for any length of time they'd call the police. Any Negro in the neighbourhood after dark was a 'suspicious person.' So I pulled up beyond the hotel and watched the entrance through the rear-view mirror.

It seemed as if I'd been there for hours. I glanced at my watch. It was only eight-thirty. I got out, walked across the street, and took another gander at the second-storey front. Both rooms were still dark. For a moment I debated whether to call again, decided against it. I knew there wasn't any use trying to get by the desk. If I went up there and told the guy who owned the voice I'd talked to over the phone that I wanted to see Madge Perkins in 202, he was liable to shoot me on sight or drop dead of heart failure.

Suddenly I decided to give it up, go over, and take Alice out to Lawson's lecture, and afterwards take her to the Down Beat. Madge wasn't worth the effort, I thought. The whole idea of going to bed with her to get even with Kelly and Mac and the other p.e.c.k.e.rwoods out at the yard seemed silly now. She wasn't nothing but trouble any way you looked at it, I told myself; and I'd always figured myself too smart to let the white folks catch me out there on their own hunting-grounds.

I mashed the starter and drove out Figueroa, thinking about what a fool I'd been to go down there looking for Madge in the first place. n.o.body but a pure and simple chump would skip a date with a chick like Alice for an off-chance shot at a tramp like Madge. I was feeling so good about it I'd forgotten all about the row I'd had with Alice the night before. My mind had jumped back to the good times we'd had together, and I felt relieved and kind of half-way clever, as if I'd gotten out of a trap the white folks had set for me.

Fifteen minutes later I pulled up behind a Pontiac coupe parked in front of the Harrisons' house and started to get out. Then I saw Alice coming down the walk from her house with Leighton. All thought and emotion just stopped, went blank. I got out slowly and waited for them.

'Why, it's Mr. Jones.' Leighton recognized me, sticking out his hand. He gave me a cordial, friendly smile. 'How are you tonight?'

I shook his hand. 'Fine,' I said. 'How are you?'

'Well . . .' He hesitated, then said, 'I'm fine too,' giving a friendly laugh.

Finally Alice said, 'h.e.l.lo, Bob,' without asking any questions or showing any surprise.

I looked at her then. She was sharp in a hunter's-green suit and white, lacy-looking blouse. But her skin looked too white, as if she had powdered it with chalk. I got the evil thought that she was trying to make herself look as white as possible so people would think she and Leighton were a white couple.

”Lo, baby,' I said. I waited for a moment, thinking she might give an explanation, and when I saw she Wasn't going to, I said, 'I know this is impolite and all that, but may I talk to you a moment. . .' I hesitated, then added, 'In private.'

'I'm sorry, darling,' she said, giving me her social worker's smile. 'We're going to the lecture and we're late now. Tom gave me a ring after you said you couldn't go.'

'Well . . .' I began, then stepped aside to let them pa.s.s. 'That's fine.' After a moment I added, 'Enjoy yourselves.'

Her expression softened, went tentative. 'Would you like to go with us?' she asked.

'By all means, come along,' he corroborated quickly. 'We'd be delighted.'

It was an embarra.s.sing moment. I wasn't going to have him share my girl with me; but I didn't want to say anything rude. 'Well, I really can't,' I fumbled. 'I have an appointment.'

Now he looked embarra.s.sed. 'Well, I hope to see you again soon, Mr. Jones,' he said, sticking out his hand. We shook hands again.

'Well, yes,' I said, turning to look at Alice.

For a moment I thought she might send Leighton on by himself; there was a slight concerned look in her eyes. Then she braced herself and said, 'Call me tomorrow, darling,' and walked on toward the coupe.

I turned back toward my car, stopped with my hand on the handle of the door, and looked back at the coupe. She was already seated and Leighton was going around the front toward the other door.

I climbed in, swung around in a sharp U, making my tyres cry, and headed back toward town. At Western I turned south to Jefferson, east toward the South Side. I felt for the brandy bottle, uncorked it, tipped it to my lips, and drank.

It really galled me to have a white guy take my girl out on a date. I wouldn't have minded so much if he had been the sharpest, richest, most important coloured guy in the world; I'd have still felt I could compete. But a white guy had his colour--I couldn't compete with that. It was all up to the chick--if she liked white, I didn't have a chance;' if she didn't, I didn't have anything to worry about. But I'd have to know, and I didn't know about Alice.

At first the brandy made me hate her with a blue violence. I wanted to knock her down and kick her. I told myself if I ever saw her again she'd have to come crawling to me on her knees. When I came into Central I was so blind with anger and chagrin I almost ran into a bus broadside. Then suddenly I was ravenous.

I went out to the new barbecue place at Forty-second Street and ordered Virginia ham. But half-way through it I got the sudden picture of Alice sitting in Leighton's coupe, smiling with appreciation at something he'd said. She'd be interested and attentive, I thought, because Leighton was white and she couldn't help but want to impress him with her culture and intelligence.

I pushed the stuff away from me, got up and went over to the cas.h.i.+er's, paid for it, and went out. I turned my car around, started downtown. I could imagine Leighton taking her someplace after the lecture that the 'known' Negroes, like me, couldn't go. Perhaps to one of the sw.a.n.ky joints out on the strip--the Troc, maybe. She'd be gay and unrestrained with him, I thought; not tight and frustrated like she'd been with me the other night. She'd know that everybody would think she was white. Then she'd be able to tell me what a nice time she'd had with Tom.

At Fifth I turned west, found a parking s.p.a.ce, went into the Blue Room. The joint was crowded. There were a couple of white sailors at one end of the bar and a white girl with her coloured girl friend down near the middle. The rest were coloured, mostly railroad men. I leaned over a guy's shoulder and ordered a double brandy, took it down to the juke box at the front, and put a nickel on King Cole's 'I'm Lost.'

All of a sudden I knew that I was getting ready to go back and see Madge. Getting charged. Getting my gauge up to be a d.a.m.ned fool about a white woman, to blow my simple top, maybe get into serious trouble--about a s.l.u.t any white b.u.m could have at will. Just to get even with Alice--with Kelly too, and Mac, and all the rest. It was crazy; I knew it was crazy, like a sign I once saw that said, '_Read and run, n.i.g.g.e.r; jf you can't read, run anyhow_.'

'Simple son of a b.i.t.c.h!' I said aloud.

A little black gal at the end of the bar turned around and gave me.a qualitative smile. 'Whatttt?' She had a soft, caressing voice.

'I was talking to myself,' I said self-consciously.

The girl next to her looked around then. The black gal said, 'Well, how 'bout you?'

I leaned over her shoulder, put my empty gla.s.s on the bar, patted her hair as I drew away. 'I'd like to see you sometime,' I said, and her eyes got to telling me about it. 'But not tonight,' I said, and it went out of her eyes.

CHAPTER XVII.

I went out, got in my car, and turned back toward Figueroa. When I pulled up in front of the hotel I glanced at my watch. It was nine after eleven; I had no idea it was that late. I cut the motor, took another long swig, then got out and started up the front stairs with the bottle in my hand. I didn't give a d.a.m.n if the clerk was still on duty and had the whole police force with him. I was rocking and scared of n.o.body in the world, on a live-wire edge and ready to pop.

The hall light still burned but the desk was deserted. I'd primed myself to give the clerk an argument, to tell him this was America and he could go to h.e.l.l; and when I found him gone I felt a slight letdown. I turned, went down to the front, knocked at 202. No one answered. I tried the k.n.o.b; the door was locked. I knocked harder. Finally a sleepy Texas voice asked, 'Who's there?'

'Bob,' I said. 'Let me in.'

There was a silence for a moment then she asked, 'Who?' as if she couldn't believe her ears.

'Bob--from the s.h.i.+pyard,' I told her. 'I told you I was coming to see you.' My tongue was thick and I had trouble with my words.

'You better get away from here,' she threatened.

'Open up the door,' I said. 'Don't be so simple all the time.'

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