Passing through Perfect (Wyattsville #3)(26)

“Aw, nonsense,” Benjamin said. “You was just a starry-eyed teenager what don’t know magic from boot shine.”

Isaac followed the back and forth of the conversation and was squarely in Delia’s corner. “I’d like seeing those shiny shoes,” he said. “And I’d like seeing all those big toy stores in New York City.”

“I thought you was gonna be a farmer like Daddy,” Benjamin teased, and then he laughed like it was the funniest thing ever. Doubled over laughing as he was, he didn’t see the sadness stretched across Delia’s face.

But Otis did.





The Knowledge of What Was





For two days Otis thought about the conversation he’d overheard. There was a part of him that wanted to help and another part that knew not to meddle in other people’s business. He thought about it long and hard, but the question remained: was it meddling if you were trying to help someone you love?

On the third day when Benjamin went to work in the field, Otis stayed behind. While Delia was mixing up cornbread, he came and sat at the kitchen table.

“I got something bothering me,” he said, “and I’m hoping you ain’t gonna be mad if an old man speaks his mind.”

Delia turned with a smile. “Daddy Church, you ain’t never said a mean word in all your life. Just say what you got to say.”

He sat there for a moment, fidgeting with his fingers and squirming to find a comfortable spot in the seat.

“Well,” he finally drawled, “I know a man’s got no right listening to other folks’ private business, but I couldn’t help hearing you and Benjamin talk about Bakerstown.”

“Oh.” Delia’s smile turned edgy, not quite angry but teetering on the verge.

“Now, don’t get riled up,” Otis said. “I’m thinking you is both part right and part wrong.”

“Part wrong?” Delia repeated. “What’d I say part wrong?”

“It ain’t so much the words what was wrong, it’s what you got no knowledge of.”

“Oh?” Delia left the batter half-mixed and sat in the chair across from Otis.

“Benjamin acting as he does is ’cause of things he don’t talk about.”

“He tells me everything,” Delia cut in.

“Benjamin don’t tell nobody about when he was in the army. Oh, he might talk about those last two years, but he don’t say nothing about the first two.”

Delia fixed her eyes on Otis’s face and waited for the words to come.

“There was a time when Benjamin was like you. He figured he’d step up and be all God intended, then white folks would see him same as equal. It was a hard lesson when he come to know that ain’t how it is.”

“What happened?”

“He joined the Army Air Forces. It was a short while before the Japs bombed our boys in Pearl Harbor. He walked all the way to Bakerstown and signed up.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that,” Delia said.

“It wasn’t ’cause he joined, it was ’cause he joined thinking he’d get to learn all about airplanes and maybe be a pilot.”

“Didn’t he?”

“No, ma’am. Them first two years only thing he did was scrub toilets and clean mess halls.”

“That doesn’t sound right,” Delia said. “Benjamin told me he worked on engines.”

“He did, but it was cars ’n trucks. Even that didn’t happen until after he met Sergeant Callaghan. Ed Callaghan was a white man from Baltimore. One night he come back to the base drunk as a skunk and puked all over the place. Benjamin cleaned up the mess and got Callaghan into his bunk so nobody was ever the wiser. Two days later Callaghan pulled Benjamin out of the colored duty pool and sent him to mechanic training.”

Delia eyed Otis suspiciously. “How’d you come to know this?”

“Benjamin used t’ send his mama a letter most every day. Him and Lila was like you and Isaac, close as peas in a pod.”

“Then he ought to understand why I want Isaac—”

Otis shook his head sadly. “Oh, he knows the love you got for that boy, he just don’t want him to grow up expecting too much outta life.”

“But if Isaac don’t know there’s a better life, how can he expect—”

Otis stopped Delia mid-sentence. “See, that’s the problem. When somebody’s thinking the best will happen and they get the worst, they’s sad clear down to their toes. But if they ain’t expecting nothing but bad and good comes along, they got cause to celebrate. It can be the very same thing, but if they’s happy or sad depends on which side they is seeing it from.”

“What you talking about?”

“When Benjamin went off to the army he was thinking he’d maybe get to be a pilot, flying one of those big bomber planes, but the best he ever got was being a mechanic and that made his heart sad. If he’d gone in expecting to clean toilet bowls, he’d’ been real happy for the chance to be a mechanic.”

“Oh.” Delia leaned forward. “But he did get to be a mechanic, and that’s something to be proud of.”

Otis nodded. “True enough. But it was a big step down from being a pilot, and that’s what hurt Benjamin’s heart. After that he stopped expecting so much and started being thankful for what he got.”