CARHOPS - 5. Chapter 5

CARHOPS - Chapter 5.

Please send feedback to y2kslacker@mail.com

Copyright 2017 by Nick Brady, all rights reserved.

-------------------------------------------

It was on Wednesday that the letter came from Henry's father. Mom had it in her lap when I got home from work. She did not look happy.

“What is this Jimmy?” she asked. “Was this your idea?”

“Was what my idea?” I figured this was the letter from Henry's father, but I wasn't sure what it said, so I played dumb.

“This letter. I told you how I felt about your running around with that colored boy. Now his father thinks we want to socialize with them.”

“What does it say? I'm not sure what you're talking about,” I fibbed. “Could I see it?”

Mom thrust the letter towards me as if it smelled bad.

I read it.

“Dear Mrs. McKenna,

As you may be aware, your son Jimmy and our son Henry work together. We had the pleasure

of meeting your son when he visited our home several weeks ago at Henry's invitation. He is a

fine young man and we are sure that you are as proud of him as we are of Henry.

 

It has come to our attention that in addition to their work, our sons share the same birth month.

To celebrate that happy occasion, we request the pleasure of your company for dinner at our

home at two o'clock on Sunday afternoon, July 19.

 

You and your son Jimmy would also be most welcome to worship with us on that same Sunday

at the One Way Baptist Church where I am Pastor. We hope you will be kind enough to accept our invitation.

 

Yours very truly,

Pastor and Mrs. Horace Brown”

 

I read the latter twice, then looked up at my mother. “This wasn't my idea, but it's a really nice letter.”

“What do you mean nice? The very idea that we would visit that man's church and eat in his house! That's ridiculous. I would be laughed out of town!”

I felt confused, Was this my mother talking? “But Mom, these are really good people. If you met them you would know that.”

“That's so easy for you to say, Jimmy. You just don't understand. You will grow up and I hope will go on to college. Then you'll probably move away like most of the kids in this town. There's nothing to do here so I wouldn't blame you. But I will stay, and I have to face the people who live here,” she looked like she was ready to cry.

“I'm sorry, Jimmy. I must sound like a terrible person to you,” she stood up and looked out the window. “I've lived here all my life. So did my parents and their parents. There have always been coloreds in this town and we've never had any problems because everybody understands their place. We have our part of town and they have theirs. We have our schools and they have theirs. We keep to ourselves and so do they. That's the way it's always been, Jimmy. That's just the way it is.”

“Have you ever known any of these people?” I asked softly. “I mean known them personally?”

“Your grandmother had a colored woman who kept house for her, and a man who did our garden. I spoke to them sometimes, but that's all. They seemed very polite, but of course I didn't know them personally.”

“I remember them when I was little, before grandmother died,” I said. “I used to talk to the gardener. His name was Nathan. He told me a lot of things.”

“Really? What kind of things?” Mom asked.

“He told me about the garden - when seeds should be planted, how you took care of them. He knew a lot about plants. He was a smart guy,” I recalled. “If you had ever talked to him, you would have known that. You would have liked him.”

Mom turned from the window and gave me a strange look. “I'm sorry, Jimmy. We are of a different age. I suppose I'm stuck in the past, and of course, you will be a part of the future. I realize that while times may be changing, that time has not come yet.”

“What will make it come, Mom? Maybe it will start with two people just being friends without worrying about what color they are. Maybe it will be when we know people as Nathan, or as Henry, instead of that man, or that boy.”

“I'm sorry Jimmy. I don't want you to be unkind to people because of their color. I don't want you to be unkind to anyone.” Mom took me in her arms. “You're wise beyond your years, Jimmy. I think you are a fine boy, just like that man – like Pastor Brown said in his letter. If you tell me that Henry is a good person, I have to believe you.”

“What would happen?” I asked her, “What would happen if we accepted his invitation? Would it be so bad? When I went to his house, his mother saw that I was hungry and she fed me. Couldn't we have dinner with them? Then you could meet Henry and his family. Then you could see for yourself that they're really nice people, not just those people.”

“Oh, Jimmy,” she sighed. “I don't know. Let me think about it. I really need to think about it.”

I had to leave it at that. The decision to accept their invitation was hers, not mine.

The next day at Sparky's, Henry was waiting. He had an expectant look on his face.

I sat down on the bench and said, “We got your dad's letter.”

Henry nodded. “What did she say?”

“She said she would think about it.”

“I guess that's better than 'hell no'. What do you think she'll do?”

“I really don't know,” I shrugged. “We talked about it a little and I told her how I felt. Honestly, Henry, she's not a hater, she's just afraid of what people will think. She let me read the letter. It was really nice. Your father sounds like a smart guy.”

“He is. He went to school at Arkansas Baptist College in Little Rock on a baseball scholarship, and majored in Theology with a minor in English Literature,” Henry told me proudly. “He expects all of his kids to go to college. My oldest brother will start next year.”

“Is he going to be a preacher too?”

“I don't think so. He wants to be a Physical Therapist and work out of a hospital somewhere. He's going to attend Langston University.”

“I think I've heard of that.”

“It's a good school,” Henry said. “Did you ever hear of Marques Haynes?”

“Yeah, the basketball player?”

“Right. He grew up in Sand Springs, Oklahoma, and went to Booker T. Washington High School. He got a basketball scholarship to Langston and played for them. The Langston Lions played an exhibition game with the Harlem Globetrotters in 1946 and beat them. After he graduated he went to play for the Globetrotters. He's one fantastic athlete.”

“You know a lot,” I said. “You're a smart guy too. What do you want to do?”

“Oh, I don't know. College seems a long way off. I want to do something interesting though. I don't plan to work at Sparky's the rest of my life. What about you? You ever think about college?”

“I'll probably go to college, but I don't know what I want to do. I like science. Maybe something with that,” I shrugged. “Like you say, that seems like a long way off.”

A car drove through and I jumped up to see what they wanted. It was back to work.

Saturday morning I talked to Mom before she went off to work. I sort of hated to ask about Pastor Brown's invitation, but I was very curious to know what she had decided.

“Hey Mom,” I asked as politely as I knew how. “Have you thought about going to Henry's next Sunday? That's a week from tomorrow.”

She put down the sewing she had been working on and gave me a straight look. “It may surprise you to know that I have,” she said. “As a matter of fact, I talked to Father Williams about that. He's a young man and has some rather progressive ideas.”

“What did he say?” I asked hopefully.

“We had a long talk. I won't go into detail, but he asked me how I felt about the racial divisions in our town and if I had ever really known any colored people,” she glanced up at me. “He asked me to examine my conscience.”

I waited a minute then asked. “Did you decide anything?”

Mom sighed. “I wonder if the Browns would like for me to bring a birthday cake.”

It took a moment for what she said to sink in. “You mean you'll go?”

“To church and everything. Will you tell Henry?”

“Yes, ma'am! I'll tell him when I see him at work this afternoon. I can't believe it!”

“Neither can I,” she sighed. “I hope I won't regret this.”

“You won't, I promise. Wait and see. I bet you'll like them. All of them,” I was bouncing with joy.

I was so eager to see Henry that I got to Sparky's early so I could give him the good news.

He looked at me and laughed when he pulled up. “Hello, sunshine. You look like you're in a good mood.”

I am and I have good news. We're coming to your house for dinner next Sunday. We're even coming to your church!”

“Wow. Miracles do happen I guess. Maybe that's an answer to prayer.”

“She talked to our priest, Father Williams about it. I guess he must have put in a good word for your dad.”

“I haven't met him, but I know he and my father have talked a few times. My father thought he was a good man.”

“I'm supposed to get the details for next Sunday and tell Mom,” I said, “like how to get to your church and what time and all that.”

“The church is two blocks north of our house and services begin at eleven o'clock. Bible study is at ten, but I guess that would be pushing it.”

“Probably. We don't usually go to Sunday school at our own church.”

Henry looked thoughtful. “I think it might feel awkward for your mom to show up at our church and just walk in,” Henry said. “Could I make a suggestion?”

“Sure. What's your plan?”

“Has your mother ever been out to Sparky's?”

“I don't think so. Why?”

“I was thinking if she was to come out there sometime this week, you could introduce us so she would know who I was. Then when you come on Sunday, I could be looking for you, and bring her inside - sort of greet her and escort her in. That might not feel so awkward. You think?”

“That sounds like a good idea,” I agreed. “I know she's going to feel kind of nervous about visiting you.”

“Do you think she would like to come out to Sparky's for something to eat?” he asked.

“I don't know. I've tried to get her to do that before, but she wasn't interested.”

“Hmm. What if you told her you forgot something and asked her to bring it out?”

“Like what?”

“Well, what if you told her you had a flat and asked her to bring your tire pump. You do have a tire
pump don't you?”

“Of course. I keep it in my bedroom.”

“We could call and tell her you have a flat tire and ask her to bring out the pump.”

“Wouldn't that be lying?”

“Not if we let the air out of it,” Henry winked.

“You're pretty devious for a preacher's kid,” I laughed.

“I'm just trying to work this out,” Henry shrugged.

“Actually, that might be about the only way to get her out here, and a good way for her to meet you.”

“We need to do it some day this week. What day would work?”

“Mom works at the Corner Cafe Tuesday through Sunday. She works from Ten in the morning until four in the afternoon on week days, and from four until ten at night on Sunday,” I said. “Monday would be good. I hate to punch a hole in my new tire though.”

“They have a valve on them don't they?” Henry grinned.

“Sure. A rock might get stuck in one. Stuff like that happens.”

Henry laughed, “I hope you don't get a rock stuck in your tire tomorrow. Want to go fishing tomorrow afternoon?”

“Sure. Back down on the river?” I suggested,

“How about I meet you at that little station on the road to Turner?”

“Aren't you afraid the pickup will be there? You know, the one that smells like rotten carp?”

Henry laughed. “If the truck is there, just keep on riding. You know where we're going.”

On Sunday morning I spruced myself up and went to church with Mom. After the service, I shook hands with Father Williams. “Thanks for talking to my mom about Pastor Brown.”

“I am ready to talk to either of you at any time,” he said diplomatically.

“From what she said, you gave her some good advice.”

“I hope so,” he smiled, then he winked at me. “I'll understand if I don't see you at church next Sunday. Let me know how it works out.”

I changed clothes as soon as Mom left for work. Not that she would tell me I couldn't go fishing with Henry, but because it seemed simpler not to bring it up. I got the feeling that either she was warming up to my being friends with Henry, or she was giving up.”

I rode out to the old road and saw Henry parked just past the station. I couldn't smell any rotten fish. He fell in behind me as I rode past.

When we got to the river, Henry pulled out his trot line. “This is a great place for catfish. I don't think we caught all of them last time.”

“Hey. I know the drill,” I said, and we pulled off our shoes and pants. We both had our swim suits underneath.

Henry tied the long end of the cord to a tree and stepped out into the river. As he fastened a sponge laden hook to a line, I dunked it into the stinky jar as we made our way across. When he had weighted down the loose end, we splashed our way back to the bank.

Once back under the trees, we stretched out on the grass and looked out over the river.

Henry glanced over at me, “When is your birthday?”

“It's today,” I grinned. “I'm fourteen and you're still thirteen. Show some respect for your elders.”

“You having a party?”

“At your house next Sunday,” I shrugged.

“I should give you a present or something,” Henry said.

“That's OK. You take me fishing. That's enough,” I smiled.

Henry sat up and looked at me. “I can sing for you if you like.”

“Really? That would be neat. I like to hear you sing.”

Henry stood up, paused to get the song in his head then began to sing in a slow and bluesy way.

“Heaven please send to all mankind,
Understanding and peace and mind.
But if it is not asking too much,
Please send me someone to love, someone to love.

Show the world how to get along,
And peace will enter, when hate is gone.
But if it's not asking too much,
Please send me someone to love,
Please send me someone to love.

I lie awake nights, and ponder a world of trouble
And my answer is always the same.
That when this man put an end to this damnable sin.
Hate will put the world in a flame, what a shame

Just because I'm, in misery
I don't beg for no sympathy
But if it is not asking too much,
Please send me someone to love,
Please send me someone to love.”

“Happy birthday, Jimmy.”

I sat up and clapped. “That was beautiful. What was that/'

“You never heard that? It on the radio sometimes. It's, 'Please Send Me Someone to Love'. Percy Mayfield sings it. You like that?”

“I sure like the way you sing it. I never had anybody sing something just for me.”

“It's about all I can afford to give you,” Henry laughed.

I was feeling sort of misty. “I think that's the best birthday present I ever had,” I said sincerely.

Henry shrugged, “We have some time to kill. Want to have some fun?”

“Sure,” I said, not sure what he had in mind.

“Follow me,” Henry said and led me far down the riverbank to where it rose higher above the river. Underneath was a deep pool. Suspended from an overhanging branch was a long rope. I got the idea immediately.

Henry took the rope, walked it back from the bank and tested it with his weight. “I think it's still solid,” he said. “I haven't been down here since last summer.”

He jumped up and grabbed the rope as high as he could reach then ran for the bank, swinging out as far as he could, then letting go. He whooped loudly, sailed through the air and hit the water with a great splash.

“Alright! Now it's your turn,” he called to me.

Not willing to let Henry outdo me, I grabbed the rope when it swung back to me and tried to swing farther out then he had. This was great. I had never done a rope swing before. It was another new experience, courtesy of Henry.

We swam, splashed and took turns with the rope swing for several hours. I didn't remember ever having more fun. Eventually, I was exhausted and flopped down on the grass under the trees.

Henry stood over me and laughed. “”What's the matter, Jimmy? Did I wear you out?”

“Yes!” I gasped. “You're in better shape than me. I'm pooped.”

“Come on, man! You quitting?”

I laughed and waved my arms. “I surrender. Let me catch my breath, OK?”

Henry sat down next to me and smiled. “You're a lot of fun, you know that?”

“Thanks,” I panted. “Don't you ever get tired?”

“I got to admit, I'm ready to see if we have any fish. You ready?”

“Oh, right. I guess that's what we came out here for.” Henry gave me a hand up, and we walked back to where we had tied the trot line.

I took up the old pillowcase and followed Henry into the water. As before, we walked down the line, checking each hook. We found seven nice sized catfish on the twenty hooks. Nothing to be ashamed of, but none was as big as last week's monster.

Henry seemed a little disappointed. “I know there are some big ones out here. We need to leave it out overnight. A lot of times, the big ones feed after dark.”

“You mean leave it and come back the next day?”

“Or just camp out here. That way we could check it through the night and re-bait it,” Henry smiled. “You ever do that?”

“No. I've never been on an overnight camp out. Mom isn't into that sort of thing.”

“Do you think she would let you? I love to camp and fish all night,” Henry was enthusiastic.

“Gee, I don't know. I could ask, I guess. Don't we need a tent and a lot of stuff?”

“Not really,” Henry said. “It doesn't take much stuff to camp in the summer. We could bring everything we need on our bikes.”

“That sounds neat. Maybe after Mom meets you, she will let me do more things like that.”

“Maybe. I sure hope your mother approves of us.”

“I bet she will. I sure hope she will,” I said.

Henry stood and took up our bag of fish. “Let's get these rascals home and clean them up. I'll let you try to clean a few.”

We loaded up and rode back to Henry's house. The pickup truck was nowhere in sight.

On Monday, I asked Floyd if I could use the phone to call my mother.

“Mom? I'm sorry to bother you, but my bike tire is flat. Could you bring me the tire pump? It's in my bedroom closet.”

“Didn't you just get new tires for your bicycle? How can they go flat?” she sounded annoyed.

“I don't know, Mom. Maybe I got a rock stuck in the valve stem or something.”

“Oh alright. I'll be out after a little while.”

“She's coming,” I told Henry. “She didn't sound too happy, but she's coming.”

“You better hope she does. It looks like your front tire is flat,” Henry grinned.

“I guess I didn't fib to her after all,” I laughed.

When Mom pulled around to the back of Sparky's, she handed the tire pump to me through the car window. I went to fetch it and Henry came with me.

“Thanks, Mom. I'm sorry you had to come out here. Uh, this is my friend Henry.”

Henry extended his hand, “I'm very pleased to meet you, Mrs. McKenna.”

One thing my mother was not, was rude. She looked at this handsome boy and shook his hand. “It's nice to meet you, Henry. Jimmy has told me a lot about you. I understand that you are an excellent fisherman.”

“Sometimes I'm lucky,” Henry smiled modestly.

I saw something in my mother soften and she returned his smile. “I appreciate the invitation for dinner on Sunday. Please tell your mother that I will bring a birthday cake.”

“Yes, ma'am. She will appreciate that,” Henry smiled again. “We are all looking forward to having you.”

With that, my mother drove away.

“That went well,” I said.

“At least she didn't spit in my eye.”

“I told you my mother is a nice person. I think this is going to work out,” I predicted.

Henry had a customer and we were interrupted.

The week went by slowly as we anticipated the weekend.

On Saturday, Mom baked a chocolate cake and wrote 'Happy Birthday, Jimmy and Henry' on top.

On Sunday, Mom took the day off from work. I couldn't remember when she had done that before. I put on my one good pair of khaki pants and a white shirt. Mom put on her best cotton dress.

“Do I look alright, Jimmy?” she was a little nervous.

“You look great, Mom. Don't worry about that.”

“Well, I want to look nice.”

“You do, don't worry,” I assured her.

We got in the car and I directed her to Henry's house. I had to take her to the south road, then north to his house. That was the only way I knew how to get there. When we pulled up in front of the house, Henry was sitting on the front porch waiting for us. He was wearing black pants, a white shirt and a red necktie. He looked really nice. When he saw us he smiled and waved.

“Good morning, Mrs. McKenna. Could I put that pretty cake in the kitchen for you?”

“Yes, thank you, Henry,” she said.

“If you like, we can walk to church from here,” he said. “It's just two blocks and will only take a few minutes.”

We fell in with him and walked to the little church. It was white with a small steeple over the front entrance. An assortment of cars was parked in the street, and some small black children were chasing each other around on the grass.

Henry led us to the front door and opened it wide. Wooden pews were on each side of a center aisle that led to a raised platform on which was a table and a row of padded chairs. The pews were occupied by about thirty colored people of varying ages. They were all dressed in what must have been their Sunday best and sat fanning themselves with cardboard fans provided by the local funeral home. Just inside the door was Pastor Horace Brown who greeted us very cordially.

“Hello, Jimmy. It's nice to see you again. This must be your mother. How do you do, Mrs. McKenna? It is very nice to meet you.” All Mom had to do was smile and shake his hand.

“This is my wife Eunice,” he said and introduced her to Mrs. Brown who was wearing a wide brimmed straw hat. I noticed that all the women were wearing hats.

“It's very nice to meet you, Eunice.” Mom was very polite. We were shown to a pew in the center of the left side. Already seated in that pew were two young men and Henry's sister Penelope. We joined them and Henry sat between me and my mother. We were introduced to his brothers George and William. They were new to me as well. The family was all there today.

Mom and I were the only white faces in the place. We were met by smiles and polite interest. The lady just in front introduced herself and said it was nice to have visitors. Several folks in our immediate vicinity smiled and nodded quietly. Eunice excused herself and took her place at an upright piano near the front. It got quiet and four older men took their seats in the padded chairs on the platform. Eunice announced a hymn number, began to play the piano and everyone started to sing. I mean everyone. It was lively and sounded really nice. I noticed that the quality of singing was better and more enthusiastic than at Saint Mark's.

Pastor Brown was wearing a white suit, white shirt and a red and blue striped tie. He looked sharp. He greeted all who were present, made a little joke about the warm weather then offered a prayer. There were tattered hymnals, but no prayer books. He did not embarrass us by making mention of us by name but welcomed any who might be visiting. Eunice announced another hymn number and the singing resumed. One of the older gentlemen gave another prayer, another stood and read some scripture, then Horace began to preach.

It was hot and we located some paper fans for comfort and listened. He preached on the scripture which had been read, the parable about the Good Samaritan. I don't recall all that he said, but the point was that we were to love and give comfort to each other, regardless of our differences. He spoke well, and with great energy, his remarks punctuated by hearty 'Amens' from some of the members. He didn't really tell any jokes, but the way he said some things made us laugh. I reckoned it was a pretty good sermon. Another old gentleman offered another prayer then we sang again. An hour after the service began, we were dismissed with a final prayer. I'm not sure what I expected, but I kind of enjoyed it.

As we filed out, a lot of the people made a point of shaking our hands and telling us how nice it was to have us with them. Not to the point of making us uncomfortable, but trying to make us feel welcome. It was nice.

After the service, Horace lingered to chat with some folks and Eunice joined us for the short walk back to their house. Eunice walked with Penelope and my mother and made small talk. George and William fell in with Henry and me and asked about our fishing. It was all very cordial.

When we got to their house, Henry, his brothers and I sat in the living room and Mom went into the kitchen to help Eunice and Penelope prepare the food. Pastor Brown joined us after a few minutes. Very soon, some good smells began to float out. Thirty minutes later, we were all called into the kitchen to crowd around the table for dinner. Horace asked Henry to offer thinks for the meal. I would have felt awkward, but Henry never missed a beat.

We bowed our heads, and Henry prayed. “Lord. We thank you for this day, and we thank you for our friends who have come to join us. We thank you for the fish who have offered themselves for this nice dinner. We thank you for the corn and beans which you provided for us from our little garden. We ask you to bless this food for the nourishment of our bodies, and especially to bless the hands which prepared it. Lord, help us to remember those who are less fortunate. Amen.”

We all said, “Amen”. On the table were platters of fried catfish, green beans, sweet corn, and hot biscuits. In front of each of us were plates which almost matched, large glasses of sweet iced tea and assorted cutlery. It was a nice spread and smelled great. With no further ceremony, the platters began to circulate and we got down to the business of eating. It was really good. The conversation was relaxed and friendly. Mom said she enjoyed the music. Horace pointed out that Henry and I had caught the fish, George and William told us some things about their mission trip, and I did damage to the biscuits. Henry mainly sat quietly and grinned.

When we had emptied the platters they were removed, some small plates were brought out with Mom's chocolate cake. Eunice made a fuss about how nice it looked, then Henry and I had 'Happy Birthday' sung to us. The cake was cut into eight slices and disappeared quickly.

We sat and talked a little more, then Henry announced that he and I would clear the table. We jumped up and carried things to the kitchen sink while Horace and the brothers went back into the living room. Eunice, Penelope, and my mother went to the sink and began to clean up. Mom washed the dishes, Penelope dried them and Eunice put everything in it's proper place. It went quickly and we all ended up in the living room. We boys sat on the floor to make room for the others on the sofa.

I looked at my mother. She was damp with perspiration but very relaxed. She looked like she was enjoying herself. We were all laughing and talking about how good the catfish was. I spoke up for the biscuits. We all agreed that the chocolate cake was exceptionally fine. The whole thing had almost a family feeling about it. We must have sat and talked for an hour or so, then Mom said that she had enjoyed it very much, but we needed to go.

The whole family walked us out, stood on the front porch and waved as we drove away. Mom drove home without saying a word. When we got home, we sat down in the living room in front of our electric fan and looked at each other.

After a minute, Mom said, “Well Jimmy, you were right.”

“Right about what?”

“Those are as nice a bunch of people as I ever met.”

I smiled, “I told you that you'd like them if you met them.”

Mom shook her head. “Well, you were right and I was wrong. I'm sorry honey. You must think I'm just awful.”

“No Mom. I think you're wonderful. And you bake the best chocolate cake in the whole world.”

---------------------------------------

To be continued.

If you would like to be notified when a new story is posted, please send me an email.

Please email comments to y2kslacker@mail.com