The summer of 1939:
"Waiters, all colored, and passengers, all white, moved up and down the aisle. The din of the car was like any other restaurant except the clatter and grind of the steel wheels on steel tracks was the background setting for all other sound. Now and again, the locomotive’s whistle would blow and crossing bells would clang. The car rocked gently, and my beer swayed in its glass. When the train lurched, my beer jumped. The waiters never filled the glass any more than a little over half full. "I watched some of the experienced Negroes slide though the crowd expertly wielding hot coffee, trays of food, and pitchers of water. One of the gees, his name tag read Julius, had a kindly look, another, a big man, Clarence, was gleeful, and still another Augustus had angry eyes and looked at the passengers with thinly veiled contempt and/or resentment. "Our eyes met – Augustus and mine. He didn’t look away. Instead his look turned inward; it was a disguise. His privacy was inside of him, readable through his eyes when he wasn’t careful. He was a man trapped in spotless white livery branded by a name tag and serving people he didn’t much like. Either that or I had a wild imagination. "I heard someone yell, 'Hey, boy. Hey, boy. Over here, boy.' The waiter’s eyes went flat as if he was no longer there. His body did what it was told to do, but he disappeared somewhere inside of himself, or so I deduced being a detective and all. "I glanced at the swell across from me. He was studying me impolitely; maybe like I had done the waiter. I didn’t like it. I suspected the waiter didn’t like it either.” ...“Outside on the debarkation platform, Augustus Williams asked me, 'What was that ruckus on the train all about?' "'Sorry, sorry. I got in a jam. I needed a way out.' "He squinted at me. 'You set me up?' He chuckled. 'Why me? Clarence -- the colored man that was standin closest to you -- is a big, strong man. Why didn’t you insult him: He mighta thrown all of you out the windaw.' “'That happy mug?' I shook my head. 'Naw. I picked you cuz I’m a good judge of character. I new exactly what you’d do.' "He thought about that for a moment and then blew out a big, deep belly laugh. "'Sorry about the Miss Negress and kiss-my-white-fanny stuff,” I said. 'Didn’t mean it.' "He looked at me strangely, and nodded. "When the eastbound train pulled up to the station, amidst its steam and smoke and bells and whistles, Augustus said, 'I’m going.' He motioned with his head toward the rear of the train. Before he left, he stuck out his hand. I thought it was to shake with me, but the forty bucks I’d given him was in his fist. “'I don’t need your lettuce, man. I make my own.' His eyes were bright. He smiled. '“Keep it for your trouble. I coulda got you fired,' I said. “'No trouble,' he said, smiling abruptly. ‘It ain’t usual for a colored man to get away with hittin a white man. I enjoyed it. Besides, not everything is about money.'" - from my novel, Otis Moon.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
A carbuncle is a roiled mass of skin or a beautiful gem. The incredible gem is pictured in the logo below and at the bottom of the short story section...
Kevin O'Kendley is the owner of Carbuncle Moon, and the author of all original material -- cartoons, blogs, shorts, essays, articles -- on the website (there has been a very limited editorial input in some of my work). All quoted sources are noted. I am responsible for all posts. The only blogs not time-dated are those advertising nonprofits. All nonprofits are vetted, investigated, though after the summer of 2018 my vetting has lapsed: (6/1/21).
Kevin O'Kendley: P.O. Box 172, Winterport, Maine, 04496, and 200 P Street, A-32, Sacramento, California, 95814, ksokendley@outlook.com. Technical help is provided by an evolving computer genius, my son, Conor O'Kendley: A good kid with a great heart who can be reached at P.O. Box 172, Winterport, Maine, 04496. (Conor is in the Navy now, a swabby) Photography provided by a visual artist, my daughter, Caitlin O'Kendley: a young woman with a beautiful soul. (Caitlin is in college now, a media-journalism student) If your nonprofit is advertised on this site and you wish to have it removed please contact me at the above listed snail-mail or email address or use the contact form on the website. If you download a blog, cartoon, a short story -- or for any other reason -- and wish to donate $ to this site, its author and technical support personnel, please send donations to above listed addresses payable to Kevin O'Kendley. My family and I could use the dinero. All cartoons, blogs, and short stories are for sale. Categories |