“I’m a man, and I don’t intend working in no body’s damn factory.”
Daphne and Ornette looked at their parents through a sudden darkening blur. They came and stood in the kitchen door behind their mother, silently watching.
“You hear that, Woman!” Brownfield swung up and placed his feet with a stamp on the floor. “We moving exactly when and where I say we moving. Long as I’m supporting this fucking family we go where I says go.” He bullied his thin wife murderously with his muddy eyes. “I may not be able to read and write but I’m still the man that wears the pants in this outfit!” He towered over her in a rage, his spittle spraying her forehead.
I don’t have to stand here and let this nigger spit in my face, she thought more or less calmly, and for the first time very seriously. Who the hell he think he is, the President or somethin’.
“You do what you want to, Brownfield,” she said, swiftly stepping out of range of his fist. “You do exactly what you want and go precisely where you please. But me and these children going to live in that house I leased. We ain’t living in no more dog patches; we going to have toilets and baths and ’lectric lights like other people!”
“I reckon you think you ain’t going to need somebody to pay for all them toilets and baths and ’lectric lights, you chewed-up-looking bitch!” Brownfield broke past his defensive children and grabbed Mem by the shoulder, spinning her round.
“Let me tell you something, man,” Mem said evenly, though breathing hard, “I have worked hard all my life, first trying to be something and then just trying to be. It’s over for me now, but if you think I won’t work harder than ever before to support these children you ain’t only mean and evil and lazy as the devil, but you’re a fool!”
“Who the hell you think’d hire a snaggle-toothed old plow mule like you?” He was sweating and felt his hands beginning to itch. “You ought to look in the glass sometime,” he said, clenching his fists. “You ain’t just ugly and beat-up looking, you’s old!”
I ain’t thirty, she wanted to say, but instead she said, “I know what I look like and I know how old I am.” It seemed impossible that she could face him and not weep. “And neither one of them knowledges is going to keep me from getting me a job so we can move on in that house Monday morning.”
“I’d like to see you try, Bitch,” he cried on his way out, shoving her and pushing against his daughters. Ruth woke from her nap with a yowl from the noise. Mem dried her and lifted her high along her shoulder.
“And this one is going to grow up in ’lectricity and gas heat!” she said tremblingly, giving her baby small tearful kisses all around her fuzzy head.
23
“H OW’S M EM?” Captain Davis asked pleasantly Friday noon when Brownfield was on his way home for lunch. “How she feel about moving over to Mr. J. L.’s? I told J. L.’s wife about her shortbread. Ummm Um,” he said magnanimously, “she sure can cook!”
“Oh, she fine!” Brownfield said with enthusiasm. “She fine, and she all ready for the big move over to Mr. J. L.’s.” He could not breathe normally and felt black and greasy under the man’s cool gaze.
Ought to pick up a rock and beat it into his old bald head that hell naw me and Mem don’t want to go work for his crazy motherfucking son! What the hell he think, we both of us crazy or somethin’! He smiled broadly at Captain Davis and clasped his hands together behind his back. His knees under his overalls leaned shakily against each other.
“We both right sure it going to work out fine,” he said hopelessly, making his face as pleasant as possible and bland, “just fine.”
“See you do your work good,” the old man said sharply, clearing his throat and turning in the direction of his house. “You and Mem ain’t bad hands,” he said almost as an afterthought. “Glad to be keeping you in the
Daphne and Ornette looked at their parents through a sudden darkening blur. They came and stood in the kitchen door behind their mother, silently watching.
“You hear that, Woman!” Brownfield swung up and placed his feet with a stamp on the floor. “We moving exactly when and where I say we moving. Long as I’m supporting this fucking family we go where I says go.” He bullied his thin wife murderously with his muddy eyes. “I may not be able to read and write but I’m still the man that wears the pants in this outfit!” He towered over her in a rage, his spittle spraying her forehead.
I don’t have to stand here and let this nigger spit in my face, she thought more or less calmly, and for the first time very seriously. Who the hell he think he is, the President or somethin’.
“You do what you want to, Brownfield,” she said, swiftly stepping out of range of his fist. “You do exactly what you want and go precisely where you please. But me and these children going to live in that house I leased. We ain’t living in no more dog patches; we going to have toilets and baths and ’lectric lights like other people!”
“I reckon you think you ain’t going to need somebody to pay for all them toilets and baths and ’lectric lights, you chewed-up-looking bitch!” Brownfield broke past his defensive children and grabbed Mem by the shoulder, spinning her round.
“Let me tell you something, man,” Mem said evenly, though breathing hard, “I have worked hard all my life, first trying to be something and then just trying to be. It’s over for me now, but if you think I won’t work harder than ever before to support these children you ain’t only mean and evil and lazy as the devil, but you’re a fool!”
“Who the hell you think’d hire a snaggle-toothed old plow mule like you?” He was sweating and felt his hands beginning to itch. “You ought to look in the glass sometime,” he said, clenching his fists. “You ain’t just ugly and beat-up looking, you’s old!”
I ain’t thirty, she wanted to say, but instead she said, “I know what I look like and I know how old I am.” It seemed impossible that she could face him and not weep. “And neither one of them knowledges is going to keep me from getting me a job so we can move on in that house Monday morning.”
“I’d like to see you try, Bitch,” he cried on his way out, shoving her and pushing against his daughters. Ruth woke from her nap with a yowl from the noise. Mem dried her and lifted her high along her shoulder.
“And this one is going to grow up in ’lectricity and gas heat!” she said tremblingly, giving her baby small tearful kisses all around her fuzzy head.
23
“H OW’S M EM?” Captain Davis asked pleasantly Friday noon when Brownfield was on his way home for lunch. “How she feel about moving over to Mr. J. L.’s? I told J. L.’s wife about her shortbread. Ummm Um,” he said magnanimously, “she sure can cook!”
“Oh, she fine!” Brownfield said with enthusiasm. “She fine, and she all ready for the big move over to Mr. J. L.’s.” He could not breathe normally and felt black and greasy under the man’s cool gaze.
Ought to pick up a rock and beat it into his old bald head that hell naw me and Mem don’t want to go work for his crazy motherfucking son! What the hell he think, we both of us crazy or somethin’! He smiled broadly at Captain Davis and clasped his hands together behind his back. His knees under his overalls leaned shakily against each other.
“We both right sure it going to work out fine,” he said hopelessly, making his face as pleasant as possible and bland, “just fine.”
“See you do your work good,” the old man said sharply, clearing his throat and turning in the direction of his house. “You and Mem ain’t bad hands,” he said almost as an afterthought. “Glad to be keeping you in the
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