All God's Dangers (14 page)

So I'd sit there and drive that mule to Pottstown or Elam or Bethany—there was three different churches I'd carry em to pretty regular. I had no kicks about the mother travelin with us; I weren't goin to do a thing but accommodate her if I could. I was already
engaged to her daughter. I tried, and it was my full aim, to marry on my birthday. And one Sunday night along the last of December, 1906, my brother Peter carried me over to Hannah's from home. None of my folks didn't go but Peter. He went over and seed his brother married, right around my birthday, right
on
my birthday, or a day sooner or a day later.

Now my half-sister Stella knowed I was goin with this girl and she supposed I intended to marry her. And at that period of time her and Uncle Jim lived down in Akers' woods, they called it, smooth land country, easy to plow and work. Weren't like that up in them hills where they moved down from. So, one day in May, before I ever married Hannah, I had cause to be in that neighborhood and I met up with my half-sister.

Hannah had wrote me a letter and asked me would I take her to commencement at Tuskegee, school closin, for the ceremony. People from every whichaway come that day to Tuskegee Normal School, colored school, commencement. Crowd so thick you couldn't squeeze between em. So, she wrote me word that she would be at her sister's and I could come by there and pick her up, drive straight on in to Tuskegee. That commencement mornin, I hitched old Haggard to the buggy I'd rented and I dropped right down to her sister's. Got there and Lily, oldest sister in the bunch, told me, “She aint here, she was to come—”

I said, “I know she was to come because she told me on a letter that I should come here and pick her up.”

She said, “Well, Sweet wrote me a letter since then and told me to tell you that she is sick and disabled to come.”

Well, I had sense enough to know what that sickness was; women and girls has it every month until they changes lives, get too old for it. So, she didn't say that's what it was, but I had a idea.

I said, “All right then. I sure hate it that I can't meet Hannah here and take her on to commencement.”

I just crawled back in that buggy right by myself and went on to Tuskegee. Enjoyed it very well that day but I didn't enjoy it as well as I would have if she'd a been with me. Had a big gatherin down there, big eats, hear the bands beatin and so on—just a real enjoyment.

I stayed there long as I cared to stay and that was the best part of the day. I fed my mule in due time and he was ready to leave when I was. Hitched him back to that hired buggy and pulled right back out the way I went in there and went on back by Malcolm Todd and Lily's. I got off there—and I had a gold ring on one of my fingers and I had on a pair of leather drivin gloves and when I got out the buggy I pulled one of them gloves off and I lost that gold ring. It weren't mine, it was my uncle's ring, Uncle Grant Culver's ring. He let me wear it some—he brought it to this country with him. Some of them boys went away from this country after the surrender and stayed off for years before they ever come back; nobody knowed where they was. I had two uncles done that—and they never did come back.

So I lost that ring in Lily's yard. Stopped my buggy, wrapped my fines around the whip in the stand, pulled that glove off and pulled the ring off with it. It was a little slack on that finger anyhow. When I got ready to get on that buggy and leave out I didn't know I'd lost that ring, didn't pay no attention to it until I got home to my daddy, way up yonder on Sitimachas Creek. And as God would have it, Lily's husband, Malcolm Todd found that ring in the yard. I got it—didn't keep it long, give it back to my uncle. If anybody else had found it—it was a gold ring—I'd a never seed it again.

I drove on up the road after I lost that ring—didn't know I'd lost it though. And Uncle Jim and Sister Stella was livin down there at that time, close to Hannah's people. And also, Charley Todd and his wife—she was a Marsh woman, Lucy Marsh. All that bunch come out together from up in them hills. And they all settled just a little piece above Malcolm's home. Well, my half-sister was visitin with Charley Todd and his wife. I stopped my mule and buggy in their yard, got out, went in the house. Happened Sister Stella was in there—I didn't know it when I walked in. We howdyed and talked right there in Charley Todd and Lucy's house. I never did set down, only went in there to pay a visit and say hello. While I was standin there, Sister spoke to me like this. I didn't say nothin to her about how come I was down in that part of the country—been down there at Malcolm Todd's to pick up Hannah and carry her to commencement; I didn't tell her nothin about that. But she boned me about Hannah. She said, “Brother”—she called me “Brother”—“I got a little talk for you.”

I wanted to know what that little talk was. I insisted on it, told her, “All right, Sister, anything you got to say, I'll listen.”

Right in front of Lucy Todd she told me—them was the only two in that room, Uncle Jim's wife, my half-sister, and Charley Todd's wife. She said, “What I want to talk with you concerns this girl you goin with. I want you to listen at me and understand me good. I'd rather you wouldn't marry that girl.”

I reckon she gleaned the idea the way I was goin to see Hannah regular as I was goin to see her, and the news of it reached her, there must have been somethin behind it.

She said, “This girl that you correspondin, there's nothin I knows bad about her at all. She's a nice girl far as I ever heard of. There's nothin hurtin her morals and her ways, only what I wants to say to you: she looks like she's a sickly girl. I wouldn't wish for my brother to marry a girl of that type. She looks like she's terrible sickly. And if you marry her you might just marry a doctor's bill. Furthermore, she might not live out a married life with you. Now, if you'll consider, I know a man that's got three good healthy daughters—”

I said, “Well, listen, Sister. Stop and listen to me. I aint goin to marry for sure, I don't
know
that I'm goin to marry, I aint married so far. Many things could come up that could devoid my and her married life—but we aint married yet and I don't know, I couldn't say that we goin to ever marry at this present time. We got to get up to that yet.”

The gal that
she
wanted me to have was Alice Ivey. Well, everybody's got a rather, but some folks carries their rathers too far.

I said, “Let me tell you, Sister, I aint goin to marry no man and no woman's daughter for her health. Health or unhealth, I won't stand back off the girl that I love.”

I got mighty about it then. She seed it too. I stood there a few minutes and said, “You all be good, I got to go.”

Nothin more said after that. Fellow by the name of Bull Tankard married Alice Ivey. I was there that night but I never would go in the house. I went there just to be goin somewhere. I didn't care nothin about the girl at all, weren't studyin her. I felt that way about it before that girl ever married Bull Tankard. Well, the night of their marriage I come out from Apafalya close to Zion Church where John Ivey lived with his family. But I didn't stay too long. My mind was runnin and my heart was on Hannah.

1906, my daddy jumped up smart and hired me to Mr. Jim Barbour. 1905, that fall, near Christmas, my daddy went to Apafalya one day—he was aimin to get shed of me again. Mr. Barbour wanted to hire me and my daddy made a trade with him. He come back home that night late, between sundown and dark when he got back. Talked with my stepmother awhile, then he called me.

That was after we had gathered the crop, cut wood for winter—he called me. And when he wanted me to do anythin accordin to his request, he'd call me “son.”

“Son, Mr. Barbour out at Apafalya wants to hire a hand.”

Come back home with that in him. He was already in business with Mr. Barbour and he found out Mr. Barbour wanted to hire a hand.

Said, “He done hired John Thomas and he wants another hand.”

I was readin between the lines fast as he spoke. I knowed that he already done promised me to the man. I said, “When do he want a hand to start, if he hires one, Papa?”

“He wants him New Year's Day.”

I set still, listenin. I started to tell him when he told me Mr. Barbour wanted another hand, I started to say, “O, Papa, why don't you”—that's just the way I determined it in my mind—“O, Papa, why don't you just tell me you done hired me to Mr. Barbour,” but I wouldn't say that. I knowed he woulda flew hot as the devil. He were workin in a way and I seed it plain, to draw my last dollar until I was twenty-one years old. I seed it, I understood the hitch very well from all the back transactions, takin all my labor he could until I was grown.

Well, I set there but I wouldn't say nothin. I cut myself off; he kept talkin. In a few minutes he said, “He wants you. He wants you.”

My mind told me, ‘I expected that.' I had mapped that out on my own. I caught the meanin by askin him when did Mr. Barbour want the hand to start
regardless
to who he was—“New Year's Day.” Told me Mr. Barbour had hired John Thomas. I knowed John Thomas well, me and John come along boys together but John was a little older than I was. Mr. Barbour hired John from his own self, he was grown. Didn't have to go to John's daddy to hire him.

Said, “He wants you. Would you work for him?”

“Yes, Papa, I'll work anywhere you put me, to help you.”

If he seed fit, as he did do right on, to draw my labor until I was twenty-one years old, it was just his game. I was goin to give it to him. But I was thoroughly intendin, the day I become twenty-one years old, that was the crop right there. I taken that in mind when I was eighteen years old. That hit my mind and hit it very heavy, and the Lord blessed me to do it. I just definitely decided—good God, you couldn't tell me nothin bout my way of life, so far as bein under my daddy—I throwed up my hand before my Savior, I just wanted, I aimed with all of my thoughts, I studied this thing and made up my mind, that when I got to be twenty-one years old, on the very day I come of age, that'd be the last day I'd ever live under my daddy's charge. I wanted to stay with my daddy until the right time to leave, I wanted to do that—my Savior listenin at my heart. And I got a great thrill out of doin as my mind led me. I begin to feel my man, I begin to want to be a man of my own, get out there and do what would prosper me in life. Never did have a thought I wanted to gamble—win money—or be a thief. I was dependin on the twist of my own wrist. Never did have a doubt about it neither; always thought I could do a thing, anything, and I done it. But I never thought, never had no idea of becomin somethin I wasn't. I seed then too, when I walked out from under my daddy's administration, I couldn't do it. And I just rested right easy where I was and tried to make a support for my family.

So I went in there to work for Mr. Barbour; he lived just inside the Apafalya corporation. Walked in there on the mornin of the first day of January, 1906, and stuck right there until the third day of August. My daddy come around every week I stayed there, on a Saturday, drawin my labor. I didn't know if he was takin up money on his own self, on his note with Mr. Barbour, or if he was drawin cash on me.

I didn't get a suit of clothes that year and I didn't have nothin but passable clothes. Here's what I had: a coat of one grade of cloth and a pair of pants of another, mixed suit. That's all I had to wear the whole year round.

One day I walked up to Mr. Barbour—my daddy had no conveniences for me to enjoy myself with my friend-girls, and him drawin on my labor now and could have got some on his own, but I knowed accordin to what Mr. Barbour told me, he was takin up on
me and gettin by with that. So, one Saturday I walked up to Mr. Barbour, said, “Mr. Barbour, I wants a little money—” first time and the last time.

“You better be careful bout askin for money. Your daddy owes me more now than he'll ever pay me.”

I had nothin to do with that. I knowed my daddy weren't drawin money on me for my gratification. He drawin it to keep up his family. I stood there and looked at Mr. Barbour.

“You better be careful bout these money matters. Your daddy owes me now more than he'll ever pay me.”

I thought to myself, ‘Let the devil come off. I's nearly grown and ought to be drawin my own money or be given part of it, anyway.'

“How much you want?”

I said, “I just want three dollars.”

Give me the three dollars with his warnings. What did I want that three dollars for? I wanted that money to pay a white gentleman for the use of his buggy on a Sunday.

Mr. Barbour had right smart money; least he operated as if he did. He was a cotton seed buyer at that time and a fertilize agent, orderin fertilize in from plants and companies and sellin it out again. And as usual amongst these town-based dealers, he run a sizable plantation in the country.