?Do you care what Kelly or Billings thinks??
?Fuck no but you might.?
?If I cared about a white man's opinion about me I'd be in a grave in East L.A. right this minute.?
It was the first time that Marty had ever said anything about race or prejudice. Socrates had begun to think that Marty was one of those men who pretended to themselves that they were white. He wore a white shirt and tie, he spoke like a white man and married a white wife. But there it was?him and the white man,
and the white man.
Socrates liked Kelly and Billings. They were friendly and courteous. They asked after your health when you'd been sick and listened to what was going on with you. Marty didn't hate those men but he knew, Socrates did too, that colored men had suffered under white disapproval where when a brown man was angry it was spit in the wind.
?So what do I do?? Socrates asked.
?You take off that blue apron and put on a green one,? Marty said. ?I'll have the papers in my office tomorrow morning. Just practice your signature tonight and tomorrow make it plain.?
?It's a man's world,? Leon Spellman said that Wednesday night at the Saint-Paul Mortuary. ?From the president on down, from Martin Luther King on down, from Al Capone on down?it's a man sits on top and say what's what and who's who.?
?And that's just why the world is in such a mess,? Cynthia said with disgust. ?We got a man in the driver's seat and he's drunk as a skunk.?
?That's not fair, Cyn,? Nelson the undertaker said. ?The boy said Martin Luther King. You cain't call Martin Luther King no drunkard or fool.?
?He was a good man but he was a man, Topper,? Cynthia replied. ?And a man wanna rattle his sword and shake his fist. A man wanna lead and the rest wanna follow. But when that man is cut down, we're lost. The head is gone, the man is gone and all the plans is gone too. A man, no matter how good he is, makes a mess.?
?You know Cynthia's right there,? Veronica agreed. ?I don't want no man out there yellin' and fightin' when he could be home wit' me. It's the Bible tell me what's right. It's the Lord lead me. It breaks my heart when they kill our men like that, or when they kill each other. It breaks my heart.?
?But what else can we do?? Socrates thought but he said it out loud too.
?Say what?? Chip Lowe asked.
?It's like nobody listens,? Socrates said. ?It's like you always alone. Most of the time it's like you got to yell or hit or somethin' 'cause nobody's listenin'. You got to do somethin'. You got to let somebody know. Other people don't have that problem. One of 'em look to the other one and they both nod and they know.?
?What you talkin' 'bout, Socrates?? Nelson Saint-Paul asked.
?I don't know,? Socrates said. ?But it's somethin'. Cynthia's right. Other people don't have a leader you could point to and they seem okay. You got your Chinese in Chinatown and your Koreans with their language all over billboards and stores up on Olympic. And the Jews all over the country help each other without sayin' they need another Moses to set 'em free.?
?What that supposed to mean?? Chip Lowe asked.
?It means that I'm tired, man. Tired,? Socrates said. ?We dyin' out here.?
?I don't understand, Socrates,? Veronica said as she lit her stogie. ?What do you mean??
?I don't know, baby. It's like there's somethin' missin'. Somethin' I ain't got in my head. I know what's wrong but I don't know what's right. You know what I mean??
Veronica nodded slowly but the gesture seemed to say,
Cynthia and Leon and Chip Lowe were all frowning.
?We all know what's right, Socrates,? Nelson Saint-Paul said.
?All of us?? Socrates asked.
