Passing through Perfect (Wyattsville #3)(71)

“What about you, Martha?” he said. “Did you forget all those nights Carmella sat with you after Tommy’s death?”

“I didn’t forget,” Martha answered flatly. “But don’t you forget it was a nigger who killed him!”

“Shame on you; shame on you all!” Sid said.

Nobody answered, and Henry Jacobs moved down a step.

Darlene turned back to the crowd. “Ain’t nobody gonna say what we got to say?”

When no one answered, she thumped her hands on her hips and stuck her snooty little nose in Sid’s face. “Get him out of here by Friday, or we’re getting a lawyer!”

Sid didn’t blink an eye or move a muscle. “Do what you have to do,” he said without backing off an inch.

Paul, who for the whole of his life had been taught to respect a woman’s delicacy, did something he’d never before done. He swung his left arm out and gave Darlene a shove that sent her tumbling into Henry Jacobs.

When Sid turned and went back inside the house, Paul followed him.

As the door closed they heard Darlene yell, “Just you wait, this fight ain’t over!”

Benjamin heard it too.





Paul





If Mama was looking down and saw what I did tonight, she’d cringe for sure. Once when I smacked Jubilee for scribbling on my school paper, Mama gave me a talking to I’m not ever gonna forget. ‘I don’t care what a girl does to you,’ she said, ‘there’s no excuse for raising your hand. If it’s something you can’t deal with just walk away.’

I’ve been taught to treat ladies with respect, but tonight I just couldn’t help myself. Seeing Darlene push that pointy nose of hers into Uncle Sid’s face was more than I could take. A man can walk away if somebody’s hurting him, but if it’s somebody he loves that’s a different story. When somebody attacks someone you love, you’ve got to stand up for them. Woman or man.

Sid Klaussner’s one of the kindest men I’ve ever known. I’ve never heard him say a bad word about anybody, and he sure don’t deserve to be talked to the way she did.

I’m sorry Darlene lost her brother, but that don’t give her cause for hating everybody else.

If Darlene took time to get to know Benjamin, she’d see he’s a lot like us. He’s a man with a heart full of hurts on the inside; the only difference is he’s got black skin on the outside.

If you ask me, having black skin ain’t nearly as bad as having a black heart like Darlene.





Voices in the Night





When the doorbell first rang, Paul and Benjamin were downstairs playing checkers. Seconds after Paul laughingly said he was playing at a disadvantage because of the cast on his arm, he heard the shriek of Darlene’s voice.

“I’ll be right back,” he’d said and stood up from the table. He hurried up the stairs as fast as he could go and Benjamin followed along, but when Paul pushed his way out onto the porch Benjamin hung back. When he caught sight of the crowd, he stood behind the side wall in a spot where he could hear but not be seen.

Listening to the anger in Darlene’s voice, Benjamin knew the thing he feared had come to pass.

In moments of anger heated words fly quickly and there’s little time for taking stock of your surroundings, so Sidney didn’t realize Benjamin was there until after he’d slammed the door. As he stomped back through the room, he saw the dark figure and turned.

“Dear God, Benjamin,” he said, “I’m sorry you had to hear that.”

“You got nothing to be sorry about,” Benjamin replied. “Things is what they is.”

“That’s not true,” Sidney argued. “That was just a bunch of loudmouth—”

Nervously shifting his weight from one foot to the other, Benjamin said, “Isaac ’n me been trouble enough for you. It’s time for us to get going.”

“No,” Paul said emphatically. “If you leave that means they win.”

Benjamin gave a cynical little chuckle. “They’s gonna win anyway.”

Hearing such a thing made Sidney madder than he already was. Normally a soft-spoken man with a jovial tone to his voice he launched a tirade, saying that he planned to fight fire with fire.

“It’s not just you, Benjamin,” he said. “It’s the principles of human decency.”

Benjamin was going to say human decency wasn’t the same for colored folks as it was for white, but before he had the chance Carmella came in and shushed them all.

“This is not a conversation I want the children to hear,” she said firmly. “If you have a need to talk of such things, then go out in the backyard and do it.”

Sidney gave a nod and headed toward the basement stairs. Paul followed with Benjamin right behind him. Benjamin was the only one who’d noticed the tearful look in Carmella’s eyes. When he passed by he leaned over and in a soft whisper said, “That woman what lost her son ain’t mad at you, Miz Carmella, she’s just mad at the meanness of life.”

“Thank you, Benjamin.” Carmella fondly touched her hand to his arm. It was a fleeting thing, a moment, maybe two at the most, but it was a gesture that would remain in Benjamin’s heart for a good long time.