twins.”
Hundley looks at me like she’s trying to drill nails in my head. “They are babies, Boylen. Children. Do you know any-thing about children?”
“Yes, ma’am. I helped to raise my sister. I will take good care of them. Ma’am.”
“Boylen …”
“I like children, Lieutenant Hundley,” I say, standing tall, daring her to shut my mouth for speaking up. “Peach is whipped; we all see that. I’ll go.”
Peaches mutters, “They asked for me, Boylen,” but we both know it don’t make no never mind who goes to see to those twins. The brass aren’t be too picky when they’re asking for a colored girl to work in the house.
“I got it, Peaches,” is all I say.
Hundley stares at me for a moment, then looks around the barracks. We all stand there in complete silence. There is something in her face that says she’s got a lot to say, but she doesn’t say it to us. I roll my stockings up over my knees and lace up my shoes while she watches me. Annie hands me my jacket.
“This isn’t right,” Lieutenant Hundley says finally, and her voice is quiet. “You girls … You women are in the army. Someone will hear about this….” Hundley looks at the floor, clears her throat. She straightens her shoulders and nods to me. “Let’s go, Boylen.”
Peaches is about to say something. She grab on to myhand before I go out the door, but she doesn’t say it. Instead, she looks at me; looks at me, then lets me go. I think about the look on her face all the way out the door, to the jeep that takes me to town.
They’ve got trees in this town, tall, tall trees like they’ve been there forever. The yards have got those nice white fences, and they’ve got flowers behind those fences, fat pink roses and big white daisies that the colored boy keep weeded and nice after he cuts the grass. Some of these houses have got those gold stars in the windows on that red, white, and blue background. They’ve got someone in the service at these houses.
These houses look like my house. Mine and Feen’s. That redbrick house we’re gonna have, someday, looks just like this.
There’s colored folk everywhere, walking home now that day’s done, walking home from the big houses where they work all day while the white ladies work in the USO, making sure the white officers got someone to give them parties. I go in the back door of one of those houses, a big brick house with white trim, a wide sitting porch wrapped around it, and long white drapes in the window.
I think of the look on Peaches’s face when I walk into that place, past the kitchen with that fine electric icebox, down the hall with the fine paper on the walls and those fine paintings. I think of that look when I see the nursery with the big rocking horse, and the electric lights above the diapertable, and those big jars of pins and cotton balls, and stacks of pure bleached cotton diapers, all as sanitary and neat as a Woolworth’s counter. I think of that look as I see the little babies lying there, like little pink puppies all curled up. They are just babies, and they sure don’t owe the world no explanation. But I look down at them for a long, long time.
“Keep prices down,” they tell us. “Use it up, wear it out, make it do, or do without,” is what all those war posters say, but when I look at the newness all over this house, I know that only some of us have to make do. Our soldiers are fighting to make the world better for these babies. WACs are workin’ to free a man to fight for freedom. But sometimes it seems like these babies, helpless as they are, is more free than I am. When are Peaches and me gonna be as free as them?
14.
now
It’s only an hour after our last break, but when Mare pulls off the interstate in search of a gas station, I’m just as glad for an-other stop and a break from the story. I get out of the car and stretch, yawning as Mare heads briskly for the restroom.
“You girls, go and look around in the store. See if you can
Hundley looks at me like she’s trying to drill nails in my head. “They are babies, Boylen. Children. Do you know any-thing about children?”
“Yes, ma’am. I helped to raise my sister. I will take good care of them. Ma’am.”
“Boylen …”
“I like children, Lieutenant Hundley,” I say, standing tall, daring her to shut my mouth for speaking up. “Peach is whipped; we all see that. I’ll go.”
Peaches mutters, “They asked for me, Boylen,” but we both know it don’t make no never mind who goes to see to those twins. The brass aren’t be too picky when they’re asking for a colored girl to work in the house.
“I got it, Peaches,” is all I say.
Hundley stares at me for a moment, then looks around the barracks. We all stand there in complete silence. There is something in her face that says she’s got a lot to say, but she doesn’t say it to us. I roll my stockings up over my knees and lace up my shoes while she watches me. Annie hands me my jacket.
“This isn’t right,” Lieutenant Hundley says finally, and her voice is quiet. “You girls … You women are in the army. Someone will hear about this….” Hundley looks at the floor, clears her throat. She straightens her shoulders and nods to me. “Let’s go, Boylen.”
Peaches is about to say something. She grab on to myhand before I go out the door, but she doesn’t say it. Instead, she looks at me; looks at me, then lets me go. I think about the look on her face all the way out the door, to the jeep that takes me to town.
They’ve got trees in this town, tall, tall trees like they’ve been there forever. The yards have got those nice white fences, and they’ve got flowers behind those fences, fat pink roses and big white daisies that the colored boy keep weeded and nice after he cuts the grass. Some of these houses have got those gold stars in the windows on that red, white, and blue background. They’ve got someone in the service at these houses.
These houses look like my house. Mine and Feen’s. That redbrick house we’re gonna have, someday, looks just like this.
There’s colored folk everywhere, walking home now that day’s done, walking home from the big houses where they work all day while the white ladies work in the USO, making sure the white officers got someone to give them parties. I go in the back door of one of those houses, a big brick house with white trim, a wide sitting porch wrapped around it, and long white drapes in the window.
I think of the look on Peaches’s face when I walk into that place, past the kitchen with that fine electric icebox, down the hall with the fine paper on the walls and those fine paintings. I think of that look when I see the nursery with the big rocking horse, and the electric lights above the diapertable, and those big jars of pins and cotton balls, and stacks of pure bleached cotton diapers, all as sanitary and neat as a Woolworth’s counter. I think of that look as I see the little babies lying there, like little pink puppies all curled up. They are just babies, and they sure don’t owe the world no explanation. But I look down at them for a long, long time.
“Keep prices down,” they tell us. “Use it up, wear it out, make it do, or do without,” is what all those war posters say, but when I look at the newness all over this house, I know that only some of us have to make do. Our soldiers are fighting to make the world better for these babies. WACs are workin’ to free a man to fight for freedom. But sometimes it seems like these babies, helpless as they are, is more free than I am. When are Peaches and me gonna be as free as them?
14.
now
It’s only an hour after our last break, but when Mare pulls off the interstate in search of a gas station, I’m just as glad for an-other stop and a break from the story. I get out of the car and stretch, yawning as Mare heads briskly for the restroom.
“You girls, go and look around in the store. See if you can
Similar Books
