Georgia 1972
I am from a time and place where few words accompany gestures, intelligence can get you killed and pride has no identity. I am from Hostile, GA and I am a Black man. At least that’s what I tell myself every night before I go to bed, just like my Daddy does after working ten hours a day for Mr. Paul, the white man who owns the lumber yard in town. My name is William Tate, I am twelve years old, soon to be thirteen, so I’se spect that makes me a man.
Anyway, Hostile ain’t so bad if you know your place. If you don’t, well then, you may end up as a piece of strange fruit. It’s a peculiar fruit given that it has no season of fertility or harvest. No one tends to the tree for pruning. In fact, a tree can be bare naked and just like that the next morning it done sprout fruit. Most times it’s just one piece of fruit and other times, it’s more. It’s not like a plum or peach, you know the sweet kind of fruit. Naw, this fruit is a lot bigger and it takes various shapes. Every once in a while, the color changes. This ain’t the eating kind of fruit, but in the Bottoms where Black folks live, it is the most valuable fruit to ever grow on a tree. That’s why the men folk all work in silence and with delicate precision to lower the fruit from the tree. Sometimes women folk be there humming church hymns and the pastor come say a few words. Even though the fruit is not edible, it never gets thrown out. Once the fruit is picked, the men folk still return it to the earth with the hope that one day it will be a source of energy and guiding spirit for the people who fret and pray over it.
The funny thing about this fruit is that it’s supposed to be against the law to grow it. Daddy say that President Lyndon B. Johnson made them change the fertilizer in 1964. Since then the trees hasn’t borne much fruit at all. At least I ain’t never seen none until now. I hear tell that when my Daddy and Momma was young like me, they saw a whole family of fruit one time. The entire neighborhood came out to pluck them down. People round Hostile too afraid to talk about it anymore.
Even though I’m almost thirteen, Mama don’t allow me to go fruit picking; says I’m too young, but I sneaks out anyways. I watch from off yonder, peepin’ round the old oak tree in Miss Pauline’s yard. Some of the utter boys round my age are there too. They tell stories of how the fruit grew overnight. Each of the boys try to outdo the next with their tall tale. I just listen, knowing that the fruit grew because of someone’s lie or misunderstanding, as they call it. Funny how I have never heard of any fruit like this growing on the white folks side of town. I guess they special, but my Granny say ain’t so. My Granny told me that the Lord has a special place for Black folks. Even with all the suffering God has prepared a special room for us. In this place, Granny says, Black folks are respected; men are treated as men and women are not sexually objectified. No sir, no more pain and oppression. I hope Granny is right. She went on to glory last fall. I sure do miss her. I’ll just keep praying like she taught me and hopefully I won’t become none of that strange fruit.
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It’s the last day of school and the sun is having its way. There’s not a cloud in the sky as the hue shines brilliantly in the perfect shade of robin’s egg blue. Sunlight dances across fields of grass and scorches the earth appeasing only itself. It takes about five minutes before the human body yields to its power.
Despite it being the last day of school, my English teacher, Mrs. Johnson, has me writing on the board 100 times about how I will not throw paper balls in class. Some of us students were capitalizing from the fact that we were about to start summer break. Although there were three of us involved in the paper fight, I was the only one who got caught. Even though Mrs. Johnson was the strictest of all the teachers, we didn’t think that she would go this far on the last day of school. It was either I stayed after school and took the punishment, or she threatened to call my house. The thought of taking lashes from Daddy’s belt made me choose the former. Mrs. Johnson was known for setting the tone of intolerance for foolishness in her class and she was going to punish you even if it meant it inconvenienced her life.
Cecil was waiting for me in the hall when our sister Lulu (short for Luladell), walked up on him. She usually waited outside near the school bus, but when it looked like we weren’t going to make the bus on time, she came inside to look for us. Lulu comes to pick up Cecil and me everyday from her high school, which is one street over from the junior high Cecil and I attend. Even though Cecil is one year older than me we are both in the 7th grade because he got left back two years ago. Lulu is in the 10th grade and it’s her responsibility to see that we get to the school bus on time. If we miss the bus, then we’ll have a two mile walk to get home and it will take away from our chores. This happened a couple of times before when Cecil and I got to rough housing with some of our friends after school. Daddy put a stop to that quick fast with the belt. After a few of those tune-ups, we learned to meet that bus on time. To ensure it, Lulu was put in charge. Lulu got mad that she now had to walk from her school to ride home with junior high students. At least that’s the fuss she gave Daddy. What was really stirring her was that she could no longer get to flirtin’ after school with Charles, the boy in church that keeps sniffing behind her. I spose that was the utter reason why Daddy makes her ride home with us, so we can keep an eye on her too.
I was at the chalk board on number 75, writing as fast as I could when Lulu appeared in the classroom doorway. She took one look at me and gave me a look that said, “If we miss this bus, you gonna wish you died.” Quickly switching from anger to Little Miss Manners, her alter ego, Lulu said to Ms. Johnson, “Good afternoon ma’am. I am William’s sister and I am here to see that he gets home on time.”
“Young lady, I understand your duty, but your brother was misbehaving in my class today and he needs to be taught a lesson before he goes off on break.”
“Yes ma’am, but my Momma and Daddy are gonna have a fit if we ain’t home in time to do our chores fore dey gets home from work.”
Mrs. Johnson walked over to Lulu and practically barricaded the door with her body to reaffirm that I was not to leave before finishing my punishment. She said it with authority while wagging her finger in Lulu’s face. I knew then that this was going to go sideways quickly. I looked at Lulu, who looked at me and gave me a quick wink to get ready. With Mrs. Johnson’s back to me, I was already starting to ease away from the blackboard. Mrs. Johnson stood steadfast in the threshold trying to get her point across that I was not leaving until the period was placed on the 100th sentence. It was as if she was daring Lulu to do something. The problem is, unless its Momma, Daddy or any other adult in the family, Lulu had never backed down from a fight. The showdown was about to begin and I was already in position. Lulu gave one last plea. “Please, ma’am our bus is about to leave and we live two miles from here. It’s mighty hot outside and we might get a heat stroke walkin’ in all this heat.” Mrs. Johnson replied, “Well William should have thought about that first before he littered up my classroom.” Lulu took a slow deep breath and then spoke firmly, “We have to go now!” Then she shoved Mrs. Johnson away from the entrance, to clear the path for me as she yelled, “Let’s go!”
Cecil was already at the bus, stalling the driver from pulling off. Lulu’s shove took Mrs. Johnson by surprise. It really wasn’t a hard shove, Lulu knew better than that, but Mrs. Johnson lost her balance and fell to the floor. I looked over my shoulder before leaving to make sure that she wasn’t hurt. It appeared that only embarrassment crept over her as she quickly jumped up from the floor and did not bother to come after us. We made it to the bus just as the driver was trying to close the doors on Cecil.
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As soon as I settled in a seat, I pulled off my sweat drenched shirt. It was wet with perspiration from being in a hot classroom all day and the nervousness of possibly missing the bus. Only the bib from my hand me down overalls covered my chest. Most of the other boys on the bus had done the same. And just like the weathered hand me down look of their overalls, mine have passed ownership three times. They were passed down from my brother Calvin to Bobby, from Bobby to Cecil and from Cecil to me. There are enough patches on them to make a quilt. Since I was the last child of ten, I have never received new clothes. There are only six of us children living in the house now with one more about to leave this year. With fewer mouths to feed, Daddy just might get me a new pair of overalls for Christmas. I’ll keep my fingers crossed.
Once we got off the bus it was another two blocks to our house. From this point on, all of the houses looked the same. One row house after another with a front porch. All were somewhat shoddy, and some needed a little more tender care than others. Since most of the people in the bottoms sharecropped or worked in one of the two factories, there was never any money for renovations. Families could barely feed and clothe their chillins after they were cheated out of their wages.
Since my father works at the lumber yard and maintains a secret side hustle, we were lucky enough to have a few extra dollars on hand last summer. Most people don’t know but my daddy comes from a long line of furniture makers. On his days off he builds furniture and every three months he and Calvin drive up to Atlanta to sell the pieces he makes. White folks round Hostile don’t know about this craft of his. He even buys his wood in Atlanta so that his boss can’t get in his business. Everything is kept in the back shed and the night before the trip to Atlanta, the pickup truck is parked next to shed for easy loading. A tarp is placed over the back and no one suspects a thing, not even the neighbors. Daddy and Calvin drive off about 5:00AM on their three hour trek to Atlanta and gets back home round 8:00PM. Only once did they ever come back with the truck still loaded. I hear dem tell Momma there was a situation that took place on that trip. I guess they worked it out cause every time thereafter, they came home with an empty truck bed grinning from ear to ear.
It be those unpredictable situations that keeps Daddy from sharing his furniture business with anyone. Only his brothers know and sometimes they goes with him instead of Calvin. If his boss was to find out that he was purchasing lumber from somewhere else, they just might fire him. His business is the only reason why we had a few extra dollars to spruce up the house last year. Everything else is deposited in the bank beneath my parent’s mattress.
Daddy is extra careful about how he spends his money. Momma helps out too. As a decoy, she sold cakes at church and had my sisters Lulu and Sheryl sell them in town on the weekend. This was to cover up any suspicion about where they got money to buy supplies to fix up the house. Just from a few cans of paint, our house outshined the others on the block. Instead of the plain ole white paint that used to be our signature color along with all the other houses in the Bottoms, Momma begged Daddy to buy grey paint instead. He fussed with her about how it cost twenty five cent more a gallon, but in the end, he gave in, realizing that our house looked more stately after the paint job was done. After that, he managed to get his boss to give him some scrap wood. Although he had the money to pay for it, he couldn’t let his boss know it. He used the wood scraps to create a new railing for the front porch. Momma was so ecstatic she made new curtains for the front windows.
While all us boys were on paint detail last summer, neighbors stopped by to compliment us while we tended to the house. Each person expressed how they wished they could do the same. With each song of praise came a warning. “Now y’all be careful. You know them white folks don’t like for us to look like we have more than them,” said most neighbors. Others offered prayers of protection, “I’se gonna pray that no burning crosses ends up on your front yard or worse.” We understood our position and welcomed the extra prayers as Mama had already took to her own prayer vigils every night before she turned in for bed.
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We were halfway into our block when we noticed a figure on the front porch. They were unrecognizable to us but seemed to be mighty comfortable as they rocked back and forth in Daddy’s chair. Momma and Daddy were still at work. Even though no one locks doors in Hostile, it is known around here not to walk inside somebody’s house when they’re not home. I could see that it was a man. He was long like my Daddy, his brothers and my older brothers too. The only thing different was that he was stockier than them. Daddy’s rocking chair squeaked a little harder than usual under the weight of this man who was smoking a corn cob pipe. His clothes were like the people in Hostile but neater; sporting a brown fedora and suspenders on his trousers. The button down white shirt he wore was starched to perfection. He had a different air about him that came off cool as a cucumber in this heat. I was fascinated by this stranger.
As we grew nearer, I could make out his features. He was dark as a piece of ebony wood with smooth skin, just like a ripe plum. Normally, in situations like this either Cecil or I would have taken lead, but Lulu, being who she was, walked ahead of us. Quite frankly, we didn’t mind. “Afternoon suh, how can we help you?” Lulu asked.
“Is this here Leroy Tate’s house?” the man asked.
“Yes suh,” she replied.
“Ya’ll must be Leroy’s youngest chillin,” he said with a part southern, part northern accent.
“We is suh. Who you?”
The stranger smiled a wide grin with lots of gold caps on his teeth, then let out a hardy laugh that practically echoed around us. “I be your Uncle Fr” he stopped mid-syllable and cleared his throat. “Your Uncle Bennie.” Cecil and I became bewildered when Lulu smiled and hugged him right away, something out of the ordinary for her to do with a stranger. Not sure what to make out of Lulu hugging this man since Cecil and I couldn’t place him in our memory from the family tree. We just stared at this exchange. We knew that we couldn’t beat him, but according to my father, we sure had better try when it came to protecting my mother and sisters.
Lulu turned to us and said, “No need for y’all to be afraid. This be the uncle that Daddy and Uncle Joe say joined the military years ago, way before we was born.”
“Shh chile, don’t be so loud, and spreadin’ my business.” The more he talked the more the southern dialect began to take shape. I knew then that he was definitely kin. He reached his hand out to shake ours, like a gentleman. It was as if his hand grew bigger the closer it got to me. I stared at the enormity of his dark knuckles and thick fingers for a few seconds before I shook it. My hand was swallowed whole inside of his. My brother’s cowardice only permitted him to wave, completely ignoring the outstretched hand in front of him. That’s when I began to rethink my claim to manhood. The breadth of his chest was as wide as the front door. The bulging biceps in his arms showed prominently through the thin cotton shirt he wore. In school we read about a huge and strong white man named Paul Bunyan and his best friend Babe, a blue ox. I imagined that my uncle fit his description, except he’s Black.
Lulu invited him right in as if she had known this man for years and she was his favorite niece. As she prepared dinner she played the perfect host, chatting with Uncle Bennie like she was grown. My brother and I were excited as we didn’t entertain unknown company much and especially not one who fought in a war. I sat perched with my ears like antennae, absorbing every word from its sound, pitch and tone. Noticing our fascination with his speech, Uncle Bennie’s diction became more city-like. Not knowing then that his speech was just as broken as mine but without most of the southern slur. However, it slipped in from time to time, forgetting that he was trying to impress us. Bobby and Sheryl, my other brother and sister that were also in high school, came home shortly after us and joined right in the discussion.
When Daddy and Momma came home from work, they took over entertaining. The city sophistication show stopped then as my uncle comfortably released the southern native in him. Daddy sent word to my two uncles who live down yonder, that their baby brother was in town and they stopped by leaving their families behind for this visit. The family network was complete once Calvin, my oldest brother in the household, came home from work at the furniture factory.
It was a celebration for sure as Momma, Sheryl and Lulu kept a pot of something delicious on the stove and some cornbread in the oven. It was like Sunday dinner, when the pastor stops by. Now that Cecil and I got to enjoy our new uncle’s playful spirit, we were more relaxed around him. The conversation remained joyful and mellow while we children were up. We all learned that Uncle Bennie had settled in Philadelphia, PA. The adults mostly wanted to know what it was like in Philadelphia, and if it was similar to New York where my older brothers and sisters had relocated. They mainly wanted to know if it was anything like what we saw on television.
Uncle Bennie made it seem like he was truly free up north. He said Black folk don’t have to ma’am and sir all the time like they do in the south. In fact, most of the white women don’t even like the term ma’am, Uncle say. A lot of the white women up north are 2nd and 3rd generation immigrants, so they don’t call themselves that in their country. That’s a term mostly used here in the southern states and nowhere else in the world. Uncle also say that the streets are all paved and no red dirt to be found. Mama had mentally packed her bags for the first locomotive or automobile headed in that direction until she discovered that she would not be able to suck on a clod of neatly packed red dirt; a past time that some southern women had taken up in Hostile.
Everyone was mesmerized by Uncle Bennie’s stories about Philadelphia, or shall I say Philly, as he called it. Then he got a little melancholy and said, “I know I done told you all the good things that make you wanna leave on the next train outta here, but hear me and hear me good when I say that Jim Crow has found a place up north too. It’s just known by a different name. Some Blacks even calls it up south. The Klan may not be marching in the streets and burning crosses, but Black folks still living in the worst neighborhoods and Uncle Charlie still gonna cheat you out of your worth. You could be doing the same job as the white man beside you and even better, but he still gonna have a bigger paycheck at the end of the week. And the women folk up there talk about Miss Ann quite regular too. There are still women standing on the corners trying to get picked up for days work. All of the adults in the room sneered or grumbled something under their breath at hearing that Black folks freedom in the United States came with a perpetual price tag. The interest was high and you could never pay your way out of debt. Even if you did somehow manage to become rich, according to Uncle Bennie, you still never garnered the same respect as a white person.
It was a long night of talking, eating, and having fun with our uncles. We children were finally sent off to bed round midnight. Only my brother Calvin was allowed to sit with the men folk on the porch which was adjacent to the boys’ bedroom. Unlike Cecil and Bobby, who began snoring the moment their heads met the pillow, I lay in bed with my ears perked like radar antennae. This was a big deal for Calvin as he had just graduated high school two years ago. Instead of going off to college or the military like the other siblings before him, he decided to stay home a while and help Daddy with the furniture building business. Like Daddy, he too had a full-time job in town to ward off any suspicion of their dealings.
I heard one of my uncles offer Calvin a drink of the stuff that Daddy kept in a white jug on the floor, near his treasured chest of drawers. It was a family heirloom that was handed down about three generations from my daddy’s great grandaddy who made it with his hands. That was about the only nice piece of furniture owned by my parents. They could easily explain its quality from the family history if somehow an unwanted guest got to their bedroom and began to inquire.
Calvin, who was 20, must have taken them up on the offer because soon I heard him coughing uncontrollably and all the men laughing at him. “Ahh, you be alright,” Uncle Bennie said. “You just sprouting wings, that’s all.” He patted Calvin on the back. “You’ll get used to it and be able to fly right soon enough.”
“Nephew, you can’t be gulping it down like its water. You gotta take your time. The key is for you to handle it, and not it handle you,” said Uncle Joe, the oldest of my father’s brothers. “You’ve got to take small sips and let it linger. That way you won’t get drunk too quick.”
Daddy interrupted the codling and put his stamp on it, “Boy I better not ever see you stumblin’ down this street or any other. You hear me?” Calvin somehow managed to reply through a myriad of coughs, “Yes sir.”
“Now you done had enough for tonight. You best stick to that sweet tea ‘til I can learn you better.” Calvin was more than happy to oblige now that his breathing was back steady.
After all the men had 1 or 2 drinks that’s when the real conversation began. I didn’t sleep a wink for fear that I would miss something. My instinct was right as their voices became a little hushed and I had to strain to hear.
Uncle Blue, whose real name is Clarence, was the third son out of five born to my grandparents. My Daddy was second right behind Uncle Joe and the fourth brother, Douglas, who was only 11 months older than Uncle Bennie, left town years ago, way before I was born and he never came back. I never heard Daddy talk about him except once when he and Uncle Joe was having a night cap on the porch. Even then, the conversation was short and I didn’t gather much information as they seemed to be speaking in code.
Uncle Blue was often called the misfit brother because he was the only one who took after grandma as he only stood 5 feet 8 inches, where his brothers all stood over 6 feet tall. This was my first time meeting Uncle Bennie, since he’s been in the military all my life. They say he and Uncle Douglas looked so much alike that people couldn’t tell them apart. They also say that they were real close, more like twins instead of just brothers. When President Harry Truman signed the executive order in 1948, integrating the military, Uncle Bennie enlisted for a second time. He had already served two years in WWII right beside his brothers, when the military was segregated. They enlisted hoping that their return home would garner better opportunities after proving their patriotism. It was a shock when they had to return to sharecropping. As for Bennie, they say he figured that this time around would be different with integration. Both Bennie and Douglass left town around the same time. Neither returned until now.
Blue dug in first addressing Uncle Bennie. His voice was low and firm. He called Uncle Bennie by a name I hadn’t heard before. “Nookie, what made you take a chance and come back down here? Don’t you know that man’s wife is still alive and living a few miles down the road?”
“Of course I know, but I ain’t worried about that. It’s been twenty five years since I left home. I thought it was time for me to see my family.”
“You know they still lynchin’ down here even though it’s been a few years since LBJ pass the Civil Rights Act. Remember, the only justice in Hostile is hostile.”
Daddy chimed in, “And I fo sure wouldn’t put all my protection in the federal gubment anyway.”
In a tone of annoyance, Bennie informed, “I don’t. My protection lies in the Smith and Wesson under my pant leg. There is where I put my trust.”
“I sure hope you got a quick trigger hand too. You know they don’t fight fair. The cowards will get all their boys first to jump you. Anybody see you come into town?” Joe asked.
“Naw, I was careful about the timing which is why I arrived when I did. There was a lot of traffic in town and everyone was busy moving around. I knew them crackers was gonna look through me. That’s another reason why I’m dressed like somebody around here. Besides, if they ask, I’ll just say that I am Bennie. They’ll never know the difference.” My mind was reeling from confusion. Did I just hear the man that we’ve been calling Uncle Bennie all night say that he ain’t really Uncle Bennie but just using his name. I think I must have fallen asleep and didn’t realize it. I began to pinch myself to ensure that I would not fall asleep again. Calvin must have sensed the same thing cause that’s when he took a risk and spoke up.
“Wait a minute, I’m confused. Ain’t you Uncle Bennie? And who’s Nookie?”
Daddy sighed hard. “Look here Calvin, this is what happens sometimes when you get to drinking too much. People start saying things that they shouldn’t.” He hesitated. “What you just heard is only known among me, your uncles and your Momma. Now, out of all of my children, I have always been able to trust you, which is why I let you stay home and help with the furniture business. Don’t make a fool out of me in front of my brothers, ya hear! What I’m about to tell you stays right here, cause if it go anywhere else, it may cost someone their life.”
“Yeah Daddy, I promise I won’t tell.”
“Now dis here is your Uncle Douglass, but he pretending to be Uncle Bennie because they looked almost like twins when they were younger and it’s been so long that no one outside the family can tell the difference. The name Nookie was what we used to call Douglass. From here on out, that’s all you need to know.”
After a few seconds of letting the news settle into Calvin’s head, Blue started in again on Uncle Bennie. “So, what you gonna say to the nosy neighbors who see ya or anyone else in town about being in the military this long?”
“That ain’t no problem. I knows a lot about the Korean and Vietnam Wars. I got’s me a friend in Philly who served in both wars. He come home two years ago with a peg leg. I met him in one of the watering holes in Philly. I noticed him staring at me kinda funny and I got a little nervous. Then he sent me a drink and the bartender say, ‘That man in the booth over there say this from one soldier to another.’ That’s when I knew he thought I was Bennie, so I went over to talk to him.”
“I slid suspiciously into the booth he sat at. It was just us two men. I asked how he knew that I was a soldier. That’s when he called my bluff. He say, ‘What you mean Bennie? We serve side by side each other through two wars. How you don’t know me? Then he laughed and said, maybe I should call you baby brother instead.’ That’s when I started to get up and walk away but he grabbed me by the arm and pulled me back down. Then he whispered, ‘I knows who you are. Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me. Your brother Bennie still overseas giving commands. He’s a lieutenant in the army now. He ain’t in the trenches no more. This here leg of mine was taken off by a land mine. That’s why I’m not there anymore. Your brother and I saw some combat for sure. I ran into trouble one time in Korea when the enemy snuck up on me and was about to send me to sleep forever. That’s when Sargeant Bennie Tate took him out. Then we stood back to back and shot ourselves out of a crazy situation that could have sent us both home to our makers. We bonded as brothers and he told me all about your story. I got your back cause your brother had mine.
I don’t know if it was a premonition, but somehow, he must have known that I would meet you one day. He told me that if I ever run into someone that looked just like him to call out the name Douglas first. I did that the other day down by the shipyard as I passed through. You didn’t even flinch. I thought you might have actually been Bennie and just didn’t see me. But when you and I made eye contact minutes ago and you turned your head, I knew you were his brother. He was right, damn if you don’t look exactly alike. He even told me about your troubles down south. I see you made it out alright. It hurt him awfully bad to see you snatched away like that. He joined the service not long after that incident. Said he couldn’t stand being in that town without you. I know what he meant. My brother and I were close the same way as you two. I too joined the military during the Korean War. My brother got drafted into the marines to serve in Vietnam. Unlike me, he didn’t make it home, so I know the hurt your brother going through. Since you ain’t answer to your name, what should I call you?”
Uncle Bennie took a breather and stopped talking for a minute. I guess he was waiting on the reaction of his brothers. When no one said anything, he continued. “I gave him the name that I go by now. It’s the name that everyone in Philly calls me. On all of my documents and social security. It’s official.”
“What is it?” Blue asked.
“Nothing y’all need to worry about cause in Hostile, I’m Bennie. As for anyone around here trying to get into my military business, Woody, that’s the fella’s name in Philly, he told me everything. I know the infantry Bennie was in to the names of the places they stayed. He even taught me a few Korean and Vietnamese words. I planned this precisely so that I wouldn’t bring no problems down on y’all,” said by my alleged Uncle Bennie. “It sure don’t hurt that we all served some time in WWII. I could probably just ride off that alone. They wouldn’t know the difference down here.”
“You right about that,” said Daddy with approval. “After the way they treat us so bad in the military and then had to come home to sharecrop, I swore that I would never put myself in that situation again. It’s only a blessing that Mama and Papa didn’t have to bury none of us. Everyone mumbled in agreement.
Uncle Bennie started in again. Either he sensed that the brothers were unpleased with his sudden return or the moonshine was getting to his head. “Y’all must think I done forgot who I am. I know them crackers probably better’n you all. It was me who suffered in the system not y’all. I was just as slim as Joe when I left here. Swinging that hammer in the heat of the sun to build them train tracks was back breaking work. That’s how my arms got so big.” My ears perked up again when I heard that. “I was headed to Chicago when I break free, but when I stopped in Philadelphia, opportunity made me slow down. I got a job working on the pier, loading and unloading shipments. That’s how I built up even more. Not to mention I met the prettiest and smartest woman there is. Her name Hattie and she can cook up a storm. She another reason why I am as thick as I’m is. She sure knows how to treat me right. I wish I could have brought her, but I didn’t know how things would be down here. Plus, she might have confused my name and I couldn’t risk that.”
“What she call you?” Daddy asked.
“She call me by my gubment name.”
“Your gubment name, huh!” Uncle Blue said in a huff. “Boy you still the same old Nookie, chasing after women.”
“Naw man, it ain’t like that wit me and Hattie. She different. She my onliest one. I done stopped all of that Tom catting since I left here. I have too much to lose.”
I heard Uncle Blue’s hard bottom shoes walk across the porch. That’s when I risked getting up to peer out the corner of the curtain. If Daddy or any one of my uncles saw me, I would get a whooping for sure, but I had to risk it.
Perching over Uncle Bennie like he was about to pounce on him, Blue stared him in the eyes and responded, “Don’t act like we weren’t there. Some of us paid the price because of that too. Did you ever stop to think about that?”
Although Blue may have been the smallest of the brothers, he definitely had the most heart. He was known in his youth to have been jumped by 4 or 5 boys at a time and still be the victor. He got the name Blue because whenever he fought somebody, the person usually ended up with dark bruises and depressed from embarrassment. Bennie’s size didn’t intimidate him like it did most others and of all the siblings and people in town, Bennie would have thought twice about messing with Blue.
Joe cleared his throat which signaled everyone was to listen. Like Daddy, he had a calm demeanor and wasn’t moved by much. He spoke when needed and everyone listened out of respect for him being the eldest and because he was the voice of reason. “Sit down Blue and calm yourself. We all suffered under the hands of these white folk round here. It ain’t nothing new and ain’t nobody blamin’ nobody else for they troubles. Now Nookie is back home after twenty five years and we ought to be celebrating our brother’s return. That’s why I came over here tonight; not to fuss. And please, let’s not forget to call him Bennie, especially around the kids and everyone else around here who actually knew Bennie. It shouldn’t be hard since they look alike.”
“You hear that Calvin. Your mouth is to remain shut about what you just heard. Do not tell your brothers and sisters cause it could mean life or death.” Daddy’s second warning.
“Yes suh Daddy, I heard you.”
Joe started in again, “I tell you one thing, Nookie is right about them white folk. They done did so much dirt to Black folk round here they can’t remember from day to day and who house they burned down or which body done end up in a tree or the river. Let yesterday go and discuss our tomorrow as a family.”
The law was laid down. There would be no more angry words exchanged. The rest of the evening would be filled with laughter as they reminisced over the antics of their youth, in between squigs of moonshine. This was my first time meeting my Uncle Bennie, or at least I think he’s my Uncle Bennie. It felt good listening to Daddy interact with his brothers. I learned that night that although I wasn’t a man yet, I could wait to become one.
A Paige from my Book 