Judy's Journey (16 page)

“Yes, of course,” said Gloria's father. “Get in, children, we've wasted enough time already.”

Gloria's mother opened the shiny back door of the car.

“How strange we should meet you children here in Georgia,” she said sweetly. “Please get in, won't you?”

“No
ma'm
!” said Judy firmly. “We're stayin' here.”

“Oh, won't you come with us, Judy?” begged Gloria.

But the back door of the car closed with a bang, and the car bounced softly up and down over the railroad tracks. Then it was gone, and Gloria's little hand could be seen waving goodbye out of the front window.

“Won't ride in no Yankee's car!” said Judy defiantly. To call Gloria's family Yankees gave her a strange malicious pleasure.

“Not even when they'd a took us to where Papa is?” asked Joe Bob.

“No,” said Judy, “not even if I was half-dead.”

“How we ever gonna find Papa?” wailed the boy.

Judy squeezed his hand tightly. She didn't know herself.

They waited a long time and finally a mule came by pulling a wagon. On the seat rode an old colored man and a little colored boy.

“Want a ride, chillen?” inquired the old man.

“Shore do,” answered Judy.

Before they knew it, Judy and Joe Bob were on the wagon seat talking to Uncle Duff and little Jerry as if they had always known them, When they reached Swampville, the first thing they saw was Papa standing in front of the garage where they had been before.

They flew into his arms.

“L
ET'S STOP IN BEANS
awhile,” said Mama. “Likely we can git outdoor work here. I thought I never wanted to see another bean, but——”

“We'll need money for gas and oil to git us to New Jersey,” added Papa. “We'll have to stop and work somewhere.”

So they stopped in South Carolina, in a small town in the Charleston area. The farm was on the edge of town, and a railroad siding reached it from the track a mile away. Several empty freight cars stood beside the packing shed. Papa hunted up the grower and arranged for work. Then he set up the tent in the shade of a tree.

Mama was feeling better and the next day she and the children walked to the bean field, while Papa went to the packing shed to pack. They caught up with a woman and a boy who were also going to the field. The woman wore a pink flowered dress over her blue slacks, and a straw hat on her head. The boy had knee-pads on his knees.

“You-all pickin' beans?” asked Judy.

The woman frowned and spoke crossly: “Where you from?”

“We just got here from Florida,” said Mama.

“You-uns can go right back where you came from,” said the woman. “No more pickers needed. They use only local labor here. Plenty people here in this town need work, without outsiders comin' in.”

“But the boss man hired us,” said Mama.

“Crop's near about over,” said the woman. “Takin' on more people ends the job for us mighty quick.”

“But he said the bean crop would last till the middle of May,” said Mama.

“This is the second pickin' now,” said the woman. “We'll be done in less'n a week. You're takin' the bread out of our mouths.” She and the boy strode on.

“
We gotta eat too
!” Judy sang out after them.

“Judy!” scolded Mama. “Hold your tongue. You only rile folks when you sass 'em back that-a-way.”

The field was not as large as a Florida bean field, but it was large enough. Pickers, young and old, black and white, were scattered over it. Many of them looked like grotesque scarecrows, dressed in fantastic odds and ends of clothing. The “field walker” gave Mama two rows to pick, and Judy and Joe Bob one each. Nobody talked to them. They were left severely alone.

“Pick with two hands,” said the field walker, “and fill your hands full. Keep the basket close beside you. Keep your kids with you and see that they
work
. If they stop pickin', send 'em out of the field.”

He gave Mama a card to be punched each time she carried a basket to the weigher to have it weighed.

Cora Jane and Lonnie played in the dirt. Judy and Joe Bob picked. Judy wanted to help Papa all she could. It was good to be earning cash money again and she did not mind bending over at first. Then the sun grew hotter and hotter, her back began to ache and the bean row got longer and longer. But she kept on. She hoped Mama would not get sick again. Cora Jane carried a glass jar to the water tank on the truck parked at the side of the field. She brought it back full of water and they drank thirstily.

They picked beans all week, and during that time none of the other pickers spoke to them. Several truckloads of Negro families arrived from Florida, each in charge of a crew leader.

One day out in the field, Judy heard a boy's sharp scream, and saw women running.

“Somebody's hurt, I betcha,” said Joe Bob.

“I'll go see if I can help,” said Judy.

When Judy came up nobody spoke to her. A hoe lay on the ground with blade upturned. She guessed the boy had stumbled and fallen on the sharp blade. The women were helping him to his feet. He held his hand to his head and groaned. Blood was running down his cheek.

“Take him over in the shade,” said Judy. “I'll git my First Aid kit.”

“Who's she, the bossy young thing?” inquired a woman.

“Family from Florida,” answered another.

The boy was taken over to the shade beside the water truck. Judy brought her kit and a wash basin which she filled with water at the tank. A large lump had risen on the boy's right temple and on top of it there was a deep cut. The women stood by not knowing what to do. A crowd of children gathered. The wounded boy, who had been standing, suddenly keeled over.

“Keep back!” said Judy. “Don't scrooge so. Can't you see he's fainted? He's gotta have air.”

She looked over the crowd of children. “Here, you!” she said, choosing a little colored girl with a sober face and a kerchief tied round-her head. “Take this straw hat and fan him gently.” The girl dropped on her knees and began to fan. Judy bathed the boy's forehead and soon he opened his eyes again.

“Keep on fanning,” said Judy to the girl.

She washed the cut out carefully and disinfected it. She snipped off adhesive and bandage just as she had seen Miss Burnette do. Then she bandaged the boy's head. When she finished, he got up, saying, “I'm O. K. now,” and walked away.

Judy turned to his mother. “If he'll come to the water tank every day at noon,” she said, “I'll dress it for him and …” Suddenly she gasped in astonishment. “Why, you're the woman who …” She couldn't finish the sentence.

“Yes,” said the woman, shamefaced. “I told you-uns to git outa here when you first came. I said you was takin' our job away from us. But if you hadn't come, my boy … well, no tellin' what——”

“Oh, it's not a very bad cut, and I think the swelling will soon go down,” said Judy.

“I couldn't a fixed it,” said the woman, “and there's no nurse or doctor in our town.” Mama came up just then. “This your girl? She fixed my boy's head good.”

Mama smiled. “Judy wants to be a nurse when she grows up. The nurse at her school in Florida gave her that outfit. She likes to use it.”

“I didn't mean it about the crop endin' so soon,” said the woman. “Course the beans is about played out, but I knew there was potatoes comin' along. You can pick potatoes with us. I should a told you there was plenty work for all.”

“That's all right,” said Mama. “If I'd a been in your place, I'd a felt the same way.”

They went back to the field.

“See, Judy,” said Mama, “when you're kind to people, instead of sassing them back, you make friends.”

“Yes ma'm,” said Judy.

The bean crop ended soon as the woman said it would. The workers moved on into a large potato field and the Drummonds went along. The number of workers increased, but the potato field was so large it was scarcely noticeable.

The workers stooped over the rows of dead vines and gathered up the potatoes which had been loosened from the earth. They put them in baskets which they moved ahead as they picked. It was hard work and dirty work. It meant crawling on hands and knees in the dirt all day long. The Drummonds continued to pick, but every night Papa talked about starting on again. He was never contented to stay very long in one place. With a little bean and potato money in his pocket, he was anxious to drive on to pastures new.

“Call the young uns,” said Mama one day. “We'll start packin' up. I need Judy to help.”

It was raining and the people had been laid off at noon, but there was not a child to be seen around the shacks or packing sheds. Papa crossed the railroad siding, and hearing a murmur of voices, stopped to listen.

The voices were coming from inside one of the box-cars. Cautiously he peered round the corner. The floor had been swept clean of potato dirt and scrubbed with water. There inside stood Judy, the old Geography in one hand and a long stick in the other.

“If you young uns don't sit still, we can't have no school,” she scolded.

Then Papa saw them—two rows of colored children sitting on old upturned half-bushel bean baskets. Joe Bob and Cora Jane were there too.

“What do you say when I come in?” asked Judy.

“Good morning, Teacher,” they cried in chorus.

“What does the book say on the front?” asked Judy.

“‘
A New World Lies Before Us
,'” answered Joe Bob promptly.

“What state are we in, Lily Belle?”

“Dunno,” giggled a tall thin girl in the back row.

“Will you remember if I tell you?” asked Judy.

“Dunno,” giggled Lily Belle.

“South Carolina,” said Judy.

“South Ca'lina,” echoed Lily Belle.

“What are the products of South Carolina?” demanded Judy.

Nobody answered. Even Joe Bob didn't know.

“We doan know,” said little Willie Davis. “You jest 'bliged to tell us, Teacher.”

“But how should I know?” said Judy. “I don't live in South Carolina. I was born in Alabama and I been livin' in Florida.”

“We come from Florida too,” said several of the children.

“Likely it tells in the book,” suggested the little girl who had fanned the fainting boy in the field.

Judy looked at her gratefully. “What is your name?” she asked.

“Coreena May Dickson,” said the girl.

Judy leafed quickly through the Geography and found the Southern States. “It tells about North Carolina and Texas and Tennessee, but I don't see nary word about South Carolina.” She closed the book with a bang. “Well, sometimes you got to know more than the book,” she said. “Now, let's us think. What do they grow right here in Charleston County?”

“Beans,” answered a boy.