out to Malibu Beach while I'm out there. That L.A. really jumpin'."
"I'm just dyin' to get out there," Billy said, courting him with a smile. "Catch a look of the movie stars, you know. I got a idea it's real crazy out there, loads of fun and all."
"Oh they
move
out there, no question," Kopey said with a last, bored look at his ring.
Buck cleared his throat, and they turned toward him, surprised at that manifestation of life. Billy frowned in anticipation of stupidity.
"I almos' went there ... once," he said, embarking on the treacherous sea of conversation; it suddenly appeared to him that he had need of greater complexity. "It was like I was in there the army but not befo', not when I was gettin' out like, ony this guy I don' remember which because he wasn't in like me the army, ony he said if..." His eyes cast around for something that would orient him, searched for anything but his wife's face. He felt himself drowning in the sea of words, but he continued to thrash around, making a great show of swimming. "I ... if
I
want to go like in he place, not heâ
I
," he emphasized as though some clarity were just out of his reach. His face beaded with sweat, and the sudden silence of everyone else in the room was like a sound. "See I still in but not he, he never in at all so he could go ahead to L.A. but only he wasn't able, so he got to get I...
me
..." It was all so simple in his mind, how a 4F had offered him a chance to go to L.A. to deliver a car because he could get the gas rations on his army papers. How did people get those things across to other people? He stared at all their dumb, pitying faces, and his mouth closed over air. Slowly, he lowered his eyes to his ponderous hands and surrendered.
"I almos' go..."
Billy White flashed her seraglio eyes upward in exasperation, and Kopey commiserated with a good-natured shrug. Then the two of them went on with their devious courtship in talk of the grand and glittering L.A. while Buck returned to his gloomy invocation of legendary riches.
In the kitchen, the other women talked around the table over their glasses of fruit juice. Mrs. Cecil Mapp sat in righteous ease as she castigated the small, wistful sinner who was her husband.
"Church,
him?
Don' make me laugh, sister," she said to Jane Ortiz, the mother of Jesus. "That man so far from God he can't pronounce the word. A fritterin' spineless creature of evil ways. Don' matter to him me and his children wear rags an' tatters. 'What the use anyway,' he say. 'We miserable hopeless people anyway.' Imagine a man like that! So he give up long ago. Now he courts the bottle, completely lost in the ways of intemperance."
"My Jesus have some wild ways, I admit," Jane Ortiz said, plucking at the tablecloth with a musing expression. "But he never lost to God; that much I can say. 'Course we of a different faith than you, Mrs. Mapp; it's a little different all around. But no matter what kind of devilment he get into, he fin' time to get to church now an' again. He took his communion, makes a confession every so often."
"Well sure, that is somethin' to say for him. His heart in the right place at least, no matter what kind of church," Mrs. Mapp said condescendingly, no real friend of Catholics. (Might as well as be weird as those colored who worshiped in a synagogue.) "But of course with us Baptists you can't just leave you sins on no priest, not so easy with us. We got to fight with the Devil all the time."
"Well, Mrs. Mapp, you might not understand how we works in the
Catholic
Church," Jane Ortiz said, quite proud of her affiliation with the un-Negro faith she had married up to. "You see with us..."
Â
Downstairs, the Pawnbroker's janitor, John Rider, sat smoking his new chrome-stemmed pipe, distracted from his reading of the Bible by the shrill voices of the women upstairs.
"It is better to dwell in a corner of d'housetop then wid a brawlin' woman in a wide house," he muttered angrily, yet with a proud smugness, as he
"I'm just dyin' to get out there," Billy said, courting him with a smile. "Catch a look of the movie stars, you know. I got a idea it's real crazy out there, loads of fun and all."
"Oh they
move
out there, no question," Kopey said with a last, bored look at his ring.
Buck cleared his throat, and they turned toward him, surprised at that manifestation of life. Billy frowned in anticipation of stupidity.
"I almos' went there ... once," he said, embarking on the treacherous sea of conversation; it suddenly appeared to him that he had need of greater complexity. "It was like I was in there the army but not befo', not when I was gettin' out like, ony this guy I don' remember which because he wasn't in like me the army, ony he said if..." His eyes cast around for something that would orient him, searched for anything but his wife's face. He felt himself drowning in the sea of words, but he continued to thrash around, making a great show of swimming. "I ... if
I
want to go like in he place, not heâ
I
," he emphasized as though some clarity were just out of his reach. His face beaded with sweat, and the sudden silence of everyone else in the room was like a sound. "See I still in but not he, he never in at all so he could go ahead to L.A. but only he wasn't able, so he got to get I...
me
..." It was all so simple in his mind, how a 4F had offered him a chance to go to L.A. to deliver a car because he could get the gas rations on his army papers. How did people get those things across to other people? He stared at all their dumb, pitying faces, and his mouth closed over air. Slowly, he lowered his eyes to his ponderous hands and surrendered.
"I almos' go..."
Billy White flashed her seraglio eyes upward in exasperation, and Kopey commiserated with a good-natured shrug. Then the two of them went on with their devious courtship in talk of the grand and glittering L.A. while Buck returned to his gloomy invocation of legendary riches.
In the kitchen, the other women talked around the table over their glasses of fruit juice. Mrs. Cecil Mapp sat in righteous ease as she castigated the small, wistful sinner who was her husband.
"Church,
him?
Don' make me laugh, sister," she said to Jane Ortiz, the mother of Jesus. "That man so far from God he can't pronounce the word. A fritterin' spineless creature of evil ways. Don' matter to him me and his children wear rags an' tatters. 'What the use anyway,' he say. 'We miserable hopeless people anyway.' Imagine a man like that! So he give up long ago. Now he courts the bottle, completely lost in the ways of intemperance."
"My Jesus have some wild ways, I admit," Jane Ortiz said, plucking at the tablecloth with a musing expression. "But he never lost to God; that much I can say. 'Course we of a different faith than you, Mrs. Mapp; it's a little different all around. But no matter what kind of devilment he get into, he fin' time to get to church now an' again. He took his communion, makes a confession every so often."
"Well sure, that is somethin' to say for him. His heart in the right place at least, no matter what kind of church," Mrs. Mapp said condescendingly, no real friend of Catholics. (Might as well as be weird as those colored who worshiped in a synagogue.) "But of course with us Baptists you can't just leave you sins on no priest, not so easy with us. We got to fight with the Devil all the time."
"Well, Mrs. Mapp, you might not understand how we works in the
Catholic
Church," Jane Ortiz said, quite proud of her affiliation with the un-Negro faith she had married up to. "You see with us..."
Â
Downstairs, the Pawnbroker's janitor, John Rider, sat smoking his new chrome-stemmed pipe, distracted from his reading of the Bible by the shrill voices of the women upstairs.
"It is better to dwell in a corner of d'housetop then wid a brawlin' woman in a wide house," he muttered angrily, yet with a proud smugness, as he
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