Fifteen minutes later I pulled up behind a Pontiac coupe parked in front of the Harrisons' house and started to get out. Then I saw Alice coming down the walk from her house with Leighton. All thought and emotion just stopped, went blank. I got out slowly and waited for them.
'Why, it's Mr. Jones.' Leighton recognized me, sticking out his hand. He gave me a cordial, friendly smile. 'How are you tonight?'
I shook his hand. 'Fine,' I said. 'How are you?'
'Well…' He hesitated, then said, 'I'm fine too,' giving a friendly laugh.
Finally Alice said, 'Hello, Bob,' without asking any questions or showing any surprise.
I looked at her then. She was sharp in a hunter's-green suit and white, lacy-looking blouse. But her skin looked too white, as if she had powdered it with chalk. I got the evil thought that she was trying to make herself look as white as possible so people would think she and Leighton were a white couple.
' 'Lo, baby,' I said. I waited for a moment, thinking she might give an explanation, and when I saw she wasn't going to, I said, 'I know this is impolite and all that, but may I talk to you a moment.. ' I hesitated, then added, 'In private.'
'I'm sorry, darling,' she said, giving me her social worker's smile. 'We're going to the lecture and we're late now. Tom gave me a ring after you said you couldn't go.'
'Well…' I began, then stepped aside to let them pass. 'That's fine.' After a moment I added, 'Enjoy yourselves.'
Her expression softened, went tentative. 'Would you like to go with us?' she asked.
'By all means, come along,' he corroborated quickly. 'We'd be delighted.'
It was an embarrassing moment. I wasn't going to have him share my girl with me; but I didn't want to say anything rude. 'Well, I really can't,' I fumbled. 'I have an appointment.'
Now he looked embarrassed. 'Well, I hope to see you again soon, Mr. Jones,' he said, sticking out his hand. We shook hands again.
'Well, yes,' I said, turning to look at Alice.
For a moment I thought she might send Leighton on by himself; there was a slight concerned look in her eyes. Then she braced herself and said, 'Call me tomorrow, darling,' and walked on toward the coupe.
I turned back toward my car, stopped with my hand on the handle of the door, and looked back at the coupe. She was already seated and Leighton was going around the front toward the other door.
I climbed in, swung around in a sharp U, making my tyres cry, and headed back toward town. At Western I turned south to Jefferson, east toward the South Side. I felt for the brandy bottle, uncorked it, tipped it to my lips, and drank.
It really galled me to have a white guy take my girl out on a date. I wouldn't have minded so much if he had been the sharpest, richest, most important coloured guy in the world; I'd have still felt I could compete. But a white guy had his colour-I couldn't compete with that. It was all up to the chick-if she liked white, I didn't have a chance; if she didn't, I didn't have anything to worry about. But I'd have to know, and I didn't know about Alice.
At first the brandy made me hate her with a blue violence. I wanted to knock her down and kick her. I told myself if I ever saw her again she'd have to come crawling to me on her knees. When I came into Central I was so blind with anger and chagrin I almost ran into a bus broadside. Then suddenly I was ravenous.
I went out to the new barbecue place at Forty-second Street and ordered Virginia ham. But half-way through it I got the sudden picture of Alice sitting in Leighton's coupe, smiling with appreciation at something he'd said. She'd be interested and attentive, I thought, because Leighton was white and she couldn't help but want to impress him with her culture and intelligence.
I pushed the stuff away from me, got up and went over to the cashier's, paid for it, and went out. I turned my car around, started downtown. I could imagine Leighton taking her someplace after the lecture that the 'known' Negroes, like me, couldn't go. Perhaps to one of the swanky joints out on the strip-the Troc, maybe. She'd be gay and unrestrained with him, I thought; not tight and frustrated like she'd been with me the other night. She'd know that everybody would think she was white. Then she'd be able to tell me what a nice time she'd had with Tom.
At Fifth I turned west, found a parking space, went into the Blue Room. The joint was crowded. There were a couple of white sailors at one end of the bar and a white girl with her coloured girl friend down near the middle. The rest were coloured, mostly railroad men. I leaned over a guy's shoulder and ordered a double brandy, took it down to the juke box at the front, and put a nickel on King Cole's 'I'm Lost.'
All of a sudden I knew that I was getting ready to go back and see Madge. Getting charged. Getting my gauge up to be a damned fool about a white woman, to blow my simple top, maybe get into serious trouble-about a slut any white bum could have at will. Just to get even with Alice-with Kelly too, and Mac, and all the rest. It was crazy; I knew it was crazy, like a sign I once saw that said, 'Read and run, nigger; if you can't read, run anyhow.'
'Simple son of a bitch!' I said aloud.
A little black gal at the end of the bar turned around and gave me. a qualitative smile. 'Whatttt?' She had a soft, caressing voice.
'I was talking to myself,' I said self-consciously.
The girl next to her looked around then. The black gal said, 'Well, how 'bout you?'
I leaned over her shoulder, put my empty glass on the bar, patted her hair as I drew away. 'I'd like to see you sometime,' I said, and her eyes got to telling me about it. 'But not tonight,' I said, and it went out of her eyes.
CHAPTER XVII
I went out, got in my car, and turned back toward Figueroa. When I pulled up in front of the hotel I glanced at my watch. It was nine after eleven; I had no idea it was that late. I cut the motor, took another long swig, then got out and started up the front stairs with the bottle in my hand. I didn't give a damn if the clerk was still on duty and had the whole police force with him. I was rocking and scared of nobody in the world, on a live-wire edge and ready to pop.
The hall light still burned but the desk was deserted. I'd primed myself to give the clerk an argument, to tell him this was America and he could go to hell; and when I found him gone I felt a slight letdown. I turned, went down to the front, knocked at 202. No one answered. I tried the knob; the door was locked. I knocked harder. Finally a sleepy Texas voice asked, 'Who's there?'
'Bob,' I said. 'Let me in.'
There was a silence for a moment then she asked, 'Who?' as if she couldn't believe her ears.
'Bob-from the shipyard,' I told her. 'I told you I was coming to see you.' My tongue was thick and I had trouble with my words.
'You better get away from here,' she threatened.
'Open up the door,' I said. 'Don't be so simple all the time.'
'If you don't get away from there I'll call the police and have you put underneath the jail,' she said in a fierce whisper as if standing close to the door.
'Call the police then,' I growled, rattling the knob.
'I'll scream,' she threatened.
'Scream then,' I said.
She didn't reply and I started hammering on the door.
'Well, wait a minute, can't you?' she whispered, unlocking the door. She opened it a crack. 'You wanna wake up everybody and let 'em see what's happening?'
I pushed inside, said, 'I don't give a damn.'
She quickly closed and locked the door, then wheeled toward me. 'You can't stay here, you'll get us both in trouble.'
'To hell with the trouble,' I muttered, turning to face her. 'Have a drink?'
She backed against the door. 'Well, wait till I get dressed, can't you? Are you in all that big a hurry?'
I put the bottle on the floor by the bed and stood looking at her a moment. She had on a nubby maroon robe
