Read Online Place Called Estherville by Erskine Caldwell - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Erskine Caldwell
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“I declare, Kathyanne, I wish you wouldn’t be so everlastingly annoying,” Madgie said that morning when Kathyanne reminded her once more that she had not been paid. Madgie had a habit of throwing up her hands at a time like that, and fluttering them like a bird flapping its wings against a screen. She was high-strung and nervous, and sometimes, especially when somebody provoked her, she had screaming spasms. The close neighbors had become accustomed to her spells and no longer knocked on the door to ask what had happened. Carter usually gave in to her rather than have to endure one of the scenes. She had always had difficulty in keeping a servant, most of them usually leaving after a week or two. “If there’s anything I detest,” she cried at Kathyanne in her shrill voice, “it’s being pestered like this when I have more important things on my mind. A whole delegation of important people from Macon will be in town tomorrow for a tour of azalea gardens, and I must not be distracted like this. If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a dozen times that we’ll discuss it the first chance I can find.” With a flurry of her arms, she got up from the breakfast table, her exasperated expression implying that she considered the matter closed. “Now, please show me the consideration I’m entitled to, Kathyanne. After all, you’re only a servant here. You must remember your place.”
“But Miss Madgie,” Kathyanne said desperately, “I’ve just got to get at least part of my pay now. Our rent hasn’t been paid for the past month, and it’s due every week. Aunt Hazel needs medicine, too. My brother’s not working, and—”
“Well, why isn’t he working?” she interrupted in a piercing high voice. “If there weren’t so many trifling colored people in the world, there wouldn’t be all this annoyance. Make your lazy good-for-nothing brother get out and go to work. The idea of a strong, able-bodied man not earning a living! There’s no excuse for anybody in this country not working. Why must you colored people be forever coming around with pitiful-sounding tales like this? I’ve heard them all my life, and I’m getting sick and tired of it. I have no sympathy whatsoever for such people. Don’t you have any self-respect?”
Kathyanne did not attempt to answer her. She had worked for the Pughs long enough to have learned that questions were rarely meant to be answered, but were, characteristically, Madgie’s way of expressing herself, and that Madgie could become very upset and angry if she presumed to interpret them literally. Madgie had once hurled a wastebasket at her when she attempted to explain why it had not been emptied. The children were nervous and uneasy in their mother’s presence, and often they went off to school in the morning with Madgie’s screams ringing in their ears. Carter always tried to finish his breakfast and get out of the house before Madgie was up.
Madgie had gone as far as the door; but there she stopped, looked around at Kathyanne in a peculiar manner as though having remembered something of importance to her, and then came back to the table and sat down again. She was noticeably calm and subdued. There was no tapping of the knife and fork on the table; there was no nervous twisting of the water glass; her hands lay motionlessly on the white tablecloth. Kathyanne, never having seen her in such a tranquil mood before, hoped that she had had a change of heart and was going to pay her at last. She went to the vacant chair across the table from Madgie and stood there expectantly.
“By the way, Kathyanne,” she said sweetly, speaking for the first time that morning without a trace of irritation or impatience, “there’s something I’ve been intending to ask you about. I’m glad I happened to remember it. It’s been on my mind for a long time now.”
“Yes, Miss Madgie?” she said hopefully.
“You didn’t bring me a reference when you came to
“I declare, Kathyanne, I wish you wouldn’t be so everlastingly annoying,” Madgie said that morning when Kathyanne reminded her once more that she had not been paid. Madgie had a habit of throwing up her hands at a time like that, and fluttering them like a bird flapping its wings against a screen. She was high-strung and nervous, and sometimes, especially when somebody provoked her, she had screaming spasms. The close neighbors had become accustomed to her spells and no longer knocked on the door to ask what had happened. Carter usually gave in to her rather than have to endure one of the scenes. She had always had difficulty in keeping a servant, most of them usually leaving after a week or two. “If there’s anything I detest,” she cried at Kathyanne in her shrill voice, “it’s being pestered like this when I have more important things on my mind. A whole delegation of important people from Macon will be in town tomorrow for a tour of azalea gardens, and I must not be distracted like this. If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a dozen times that we’ll discuss it the first chance I can find.” With a flurry of her arms, she got up from the breakfast table, her exasperated expression implying that she considered the matter closed. “Now, please show me the consideration I’m entitled to, Kathyanne. After all, you’re only a servant here. You must remember your place.”
“But Miss Madgie,” Kathyanne said desperately, “I’ve just got to get at least part of my pay now. Our rent hasn’t been paid for the past month, and it’s due every week. Aunt Hazel needs medicine, too. My brother’s not working, and—”
“Well, why isn’t he working?” she interrupted in a piercing high voice. “If there weren’t so many trifling colored people in the world, there wouldn’t be all this annoyance. Make your lazy good-for-nothing brother get out and go to work. The idea of a strong, able-bodied man not earning a living! There’s no excuse for anybody in this country not working. Why must you colored people be forever coming around with pitiful-sounding tales like this? I’ve heard them all my life, and I’m getting sick and tired of it. I have no sympathy whatsoever for such people. Don’t you have any self-respect?”
Kathyanne did not attempt to answer her. She had worked for the Pughs long enough to have learned that questions were rarely meant to be answered, but were, characteristically, Madgie’s way of expressing herself, and that Madgie could become very upset and angry if she presumed to interpret them literally. Madgie had once hurled a wastebasket at her when she attempted to explain why it had not been emptied. The children were nervous and uneasy in their mother’s presence, and often they went off to school in the morning with Madgie’s screams ringing in their ears. Carter always tried to finish his breakfast and get out of the house before Madgie was up.
Madgie had gone as far as the door; but there she stopped, looked around at Kathyanne in a peculiar manner as though having remembered something of importance to her, and then came back to the table and sat down again. She was noticeably calm and subdued. There was no tapping of the knife and fork on the table; there was no nervous twisting of the water glass; her hands lay motionlessly on the white tablecloth. Kathyanne, never having seen her in such a tranquil mood before, hoped that she had had a change of heart and was going to pay her at last. She went to the vacant chair across the table from Madgie and stood there expectantly.
“By the way, Kathyanne,” she said sweetly, speaking for the first time that morning without a trace of irritation or impatience, “there’s something I’ve been intending to ask you about. I’m glad I happened to remember it. It’s been on my mind for a long time now.”
“Yes, Miss Madgie?” she said hopefully.
“You didn’t bring me a reference when you came to
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