supper we learned that Orris owned the local feed store. That perked Henry up a bit. The two of them talked livestock for a while, discussing the merits of various breeds of pigs—a subject on which Henry was astonishingly well versed. Then the talk turned to farm labor.
“Damn niggers,” Orris said. “Moving up north, leaving folks with no way to make a crop. Ought to be a law against it.”
“In my day we didn’t let em leave,” Pappy said. “And the ones that tried sneaking off in the middle of the night ended up sorry they had.”
Orris nodded approvingly. “My brother has a farm down to Yazoo City. Do you know, last October he had cotton rotting in the fields because he couldn’t find enough niggers to pick it? And the ones he did find were wanting two dollars and fifty cents per hundred pounds.”
“Two-fifty per hundred!” Henry exclaimed. “At that ratethey’ll put every planter in the Delta out of business. And then what’ll they do, when there’s nobody to hire them and give them a roof over their heads?”
“If you’re expecting sense from a nigger, you’re gonna be waiting a good long while,” said Pappy.
“You mark my words,” said Orris, “they’re gonna be asking for even more this year, now the government’s done away with the price controls.”
“Damn niggers,” said Pappy.
It was eight o’clock by the time we finished supper, and the children were nodding into their bowls. When Alice offered to let us stay the night, I accepted quickly; it was a two-hour drive to Eboline’s in Greenville, and I wasn’t about to chance our flimsy wartime tires on those pothole-filled roads in the dark. Henry and Orris both looked like they wanted to object, but neither of them did. The three men went outside to cover the furniture in the truck against the dew, while Alice cleaned up and I put the girls to bed. After I got them tucked in, I helped her make up the bed Henry and I would share.
“This is a big house,” I said. “Is it just you and Mr. Stokes?”
“Yes,” she said in a low, sad voice. “Diphtheria took Orris Jr. in the fall of ’42, and our daughter Mary died of pneumonia last year. Your girls are sleeping in their beds.”
“I’m sorry.” I busied myself with the pillowcases, not knowing what else to say.
“I’m expecting,” she confided shyly after a moment. “I haven’t told Orris yet. I wanted to be sure it took.”
“I hope you have a fine strong baby, Alice.”
“So do I. I pray for it every night.”
She left me then, wishing me a good sleep. I went to the window, which looked out over the backyard. I could see the promised fig tree, its branches naked of leaves but still graceful in the moonlight. If he had just signed a lease , I thought. If he were just a different sort of man. Henry was never good at reading people. He always assumed everybody was just like him: that they said what they meant and would do what they said.
When the door opened I didn’t turn around. He walked up behind me and laid his hand on my shoulder. I hesitated, then reached up and touched it with my own. The skin on top was soft and papery. I felt a rush of tenderness for him, for his aging hands and his wounded pride. He kissed the top of my head, and I sighed and leaned into him. How could I wish him to be other than he was? To be hard and suspicious, like his father? I couldn’t, and I felt ashamed of myself for having had such thoughts.
“We’ll find another house,” I said.
I felt him shake his head. “This was the only place for rent in town. It’s all the returning soldiers, they’ve taken all the housing. We’ll have to live out on the farm.”
“What about one of the other towns nearby?” I asked.
“I’ve got no time to look elsewhere,” he said. “I have to get the fields broken. I’m already starting a month late.”
He stepped away from me. I heard the snap of the suitcase opening. “The farmhouse isn’t much, but I know you’ll makeit
“Damn niggers,” Orris said. “Moving up north, leaving folks with no way to make a crop. Ought to be a law against it.”
“In my day we didn’t let em leave,” Pappy said. “And the ones that tried sneaking off in the middle of the night ended up sorry they had.”
Orris nodded approvingly. “My brother has a farm down to Yazoo City. Do you know, last October he had cotton rotting in the fields because he couldn’t find enough niggers to pick it? And the ones he did find were wanting two dollars and fifty cents per hundred pounds.”
“Two-fifty per hundred!” Henry exclaimed. “At that ratethey’ll put every planter in the Delta out of business. And then what’ll they do, when there’s nobody to hire them and give them a roof over their heads?”
“If you’re expecting sense from a nigger, you’re gonna be waiting a good long while,” said Pappy.
“You mark my words,” said Orris, “they’re gonna be asking for even more this year, now the government’s done away with the price controls.”
“Damn niggers,” said Pappy.
It was eight o’clock by the time we finished supper, and the children were nodding into their bowls. When Alice offered to let us stay the night, I accepted quickly; it was a two-hour drive to Eboline’s in Greenville, and I wasn’t about to chance our flimsy wartime tires on those pothole-filled roads in the dark. Henry and Orris both looked like they wanted to object, but neither of them did. The three men went outside to cover the furniture in the truck against the dew, while Alice cleaned up and I put the girls to bed. After I got them tucked in, I helped her make up the bed Henry and I would share.
“This is a big house,” I said. “Is it just you and Mr. Stokes?”
“Yes,” she said in a low, sad voice. “Diphtheria took Orris Jr. in the fall of ’42, and our daughter Mary died of pneumonia last year. Your girls are sleeping in their beds.”
“I’m sorry.” I busied myself with the pillowcases, not knowing what else to say.
“I’m expecting,” she confided shyly after a moment. “I haven’t told Orris yet. I wanted to be sure it took.”
“I hope you have a fine strong baby, Alice.”
“So do I. I pray for it every night.”
She left me then, wishing me a good sleep. I went to the window, which looked out over the backyard. I could see the promised fig tree, its branches naked of leaves but still graceful in the moonlight. If he had just signed a lease , I thought. If he were just a different sort of man. Henry was never good at reading people. He always assumed everybody was just like him: that they said what they meant and would do what they said.
When the door opened I didn’t turn around. He walked up behind me and laid his hand on my shoulder. I hesitated, then reached up and touched it with my own. The skin on top was soft and papery. I felt a rush of tenderness for him, for his aging hands and his wounded pride. He kissed the top of my head, and I sighed and leaned into him. How could I wish him to be other than he was? To be hard and suspicious, like his father? I couldn’t, and I felt ashamed of myself for having had such thoughts.
“We’ll find another house,” I said.
I felt him shake his head. “This was the only place for rent in town. It’s all the returning soldiers, they’ve taken all the housing. We’ll have to live out on the farm.”
“What about one of the other towns nearby?” I asked.
“I’ve got no time to look elsewhere,” he said. “I have to get the fields broken. I’m already starting a month late.”
He stepped away from me. I heard the snap of the suitcase opening. “The farmhouse isn’t much, but I know you’ll makeit
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