A Long Day in November (9 page)

“Couldn't I sell the car or something?” Daddy asks.

“You got to burn it,” Madame Toussaint says. “How come your head so hard?”

“But I paid good money for that car,” Daddy says. “It wouldn't look right if I just jumped up and put fire to it.”

“You, get out my house,” Madame Toussaint says, pointing her finger at Daddy. “Go do what you want with your car. It's yours. But just don't come back here bothering me for no more advice.”

“I don't know,” Daddy says.

“I'm through talking,” Madame Toussaint says. “Rollo? Come here, baby.”

Big old jet-black Rollo comes up and puts his head in Madame Toussaint's lap. Madame Toussaint pats him on the head.

“That's what I got to do, hanh?” Daddy says.

Madame Toussaint don't answer Daddy. She starts singing a song to Rollo:

“He bad?” Daddy asks.

“Do he bite?” Daddy asks.

Madame Toussaint keeps on singing:

“Come on,” Daddy says. “I reckon we better be going.”

Daddy squats down and I climb up on his back. I look down at Madame Toussaint patting big old jet-black Rollo on his head.

Daddy pushes the door open and we go outside. It's cold outside. Daddy goes down Madame Toussaint's three old broken-down steps and we go out in the road.

“I don't know,” Daddy says.

“Hanh?”

“I'm talking to myself,” Daddy says. “I don't know about burning up my car.”

“You go'n burn up your car?” I ask.

“That's what Madame Toussaint say to do,” Daddy says.

“You ain't go'n have no more car?”

“I reckon not,” Daddy says. “You want me and Mama to stay together?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Then I reckon I got to burn it up,” Daddy says. “But I sure hope there was another way out. I put better than three hundred dollars in that car.”

Daddy walks fast and I bounce on his back.

“God, I wish there was another way out,” Daddy says. “Don't look like that's right for a man to just jump up and set fire to something like that. What you think I ought to do?”

“Hanh?”

“Go back to sleep,” Daddy says. “I don't know what I'm educating you for.”

“I ain't sleeping,” I say.

“I don't know,” Daddy says. “That don't look right. All Frank Armstrong had to do was put salve on Julie's big toe every night. All Johnny had to do was stop going to church so much. Neither one of them had to burn nothing down. Johnny didn't have to burn down the church; Frank Armstrong didn't have to burn down his house; not even a pair of pants. But me, I got to burn up my car. Charged us all the same thing—no, even charged me seventy-five cents more—and I got to burn up a car I can still get some use out. Now, that don't sound right, do it?”

“Hanh?”

“I can't figure it,” Daddy says. “Look like I ought to be able to sell it for little something. Get some of my money back. Burning it, I don't get a red copper. That just don't sound right to me. I wonder if she was fooling. No. She say she wasn't. But maybe that wasn't my advice she seen in that fireplace. Maybe that was somebody else advice. Maybe
she gived me the wrong one. Maybe it belongs to the man coming back there after me. They go there three times a day, she can get them mixed up.”

“I'm scared of Madame Toussaint, Daddy,” I say.

“Must've been somebody else,” Daddy says. “I bet it was. I bet you anything it was.”

I bounce on Daddy's back and I close my eyes. I open them and I see me and Daddy going 'cross the railroad tracks. We go up the quarter to Gran'mon's house. Daddy squats down and I slide off his back.

“Run in the house to the fire,” Daddy says. “Tell your mama come to the door.”

Soon 's I come in the yard, Spot runs down the walk and starts barking. Mama and all of them come out on the gallery.

“My baby,” Mama says. Mama comes down the steps and hugs me to her. “My baby,” she says.

“Look at that old yellow thing standing out in that road,” Gran'mon says. “What you ought to been done was got the sheriff on him for kidnap.”

Me and Mama go back on the gallery.

“I been to Madame Toussaint's house,” I say. Mama looks at me and looks at Daddy out in the road. Daddy comes to the gate and looks at us on the gallery.

“Amy?” Daddy calls. “Can I speak to you a minute? Just one minute?”

“You don't get away from my gate, I'm go'n make that
shotgun speak to you,” Gran'mon says. “I didn't get you at twelve o'clock, but I won't miss you now.”

“Amy, honey,” Daddy calls. “Please.”

“Come on, Sonny,” Mama says.

“Where you going?” Gran'mon asks.

“Far as the gate,” Mama says. “I'll talk to him. I reckon I owe him that much.”

“You leave this house with that nigger, don't ever come back here again,” Gran'mon says.

“You oughtn't talk like that, Rachel,” Uncle Al says.

“I talk like I want,” Gran'mon says. “She's my daughter; not yours, neither his.”

Me and Mama go out to the gate where Daddy is. Daddy stands outside the gate and me and Mama stand inside.

“Lord, you look good, Amy,” Daddy says. “Honey, didn't you miss me? Go on and say it. Go on and say how bad you missed me.”

“That's all you want to say to me?” Mama says.

“Honey, please,” Daddy says. “Say you missed me. I been grieving all day like a dog.”

“Come on, Sonny,” Mama says. “Let's go back inside.”

“Honey,” Daddy says. “Please don't turn your back on me and go back to Freddie Jackson. Honey, I love you. I swear 'fore God I love you. Honey, you listening?”

“Come on, Sonny,” Mama says.

“Honey,” Daddy says, “if I burn the car like Madame
Toussaint say, you'll come back home?”

“What?” Mama says.

“She say for Daddy—”

“Be still, Sonny,” Mama says.

“She told me to set fire to it and you'll come back home,” Daddy says. “You'll come back, honey?”

“She told you to burn up your car?” Mama says.

“If I want you to come back,” Daddy says. “If I do it, you'll come back?”

“If you burn it up,” Mama says. “If you burn it up, yes, I'll come back.”

“Tonight?” Daddy says.

“Yes; tonight,” Mama says.

“If I sold it?” Daddy says.

“Burn it,” Mama says.

“I can get about fifty for it,” Daddy says. “You could get couple dresses out of that.”

“Burn it,” Mama says. “You know what burn is?”

Daddy looks across the gate at Mama, and Mama looks right back at him. Daddy nods his head.

“I can't argue with you, honey,” he says. “I'll go and burn it right now. You can come see if you want.”

“No,” Mama says, “I'll be here when you come back.”

“Couldn't you go up home and start cooking some supper?” Daddy asks. “I'm just's hungry as a dog.”

“I'll cook when that car is burnt,” Mama says. “Come on, Sonny.”

“Can I go see Daddy burn his car, Mama?” I ask.

“No,” Mama says. “You been in that cold long enough.”

“I want see Daddy burn his car,” I say. I start crying and stomping so Mama'll let me go.

“Let him go, honey,” Daddy says. “I'll keep him warm.”

“You can go,” Mama says. “But don't come to me if you start that coughing tonight, you hear?”

“Uh-huh,” I say.

Mama makes sure all my clothes's buttoned good, then she let me go. I run out in the road where Daddy is.

“I'll be back soon's I can, honey,” Daddy says. “And we'll straighten out everything, hear?”

“Just make sure you burn it,” Mama says. “I'll find out.”

“Honey, I'm go'n burn every bit of it,” Daddy says.

“I'll be here when you come back,” Mama says. “How you figuring on getting up there?”

“I'll go over and see if George Williams can't take me,” Daddy says.

“I don't want Sonny in that cold too long,” Mama says. “And you keep your hands in your pockets, Sonny.”

“I ain't go'n take them out,” I say.

Mama goes back up the walk toward the house. Daddy stands there just watching her.

“Lord, that's a sweet little woman,” he says, shaking his head. “That's a sweet little woman you see going back to that house.”

“Come on, Daddy,” I say. “Let's go burn up the car.”

Me and Daddy walk away from the fence.

“Let me get on your back and ride,” I say.

“Can't you walk sometime,” Daddy says. “What you think I'm educating you for—to treat me like a horse?”

M
r. George Williams drives his car to the side of the road, then we get out. “Look like we got company,” Mr. George Williams says.

Me and Daddy and Mr. George Williams go over where the people is. The people got a little fire burning, and some of them's sitting on the car fender. But most of them's standing round the little fire.

“Welcome,” somebody says.

“Thanks,” Daddy says. “Since this is my car you sitting on.”

“Oh,” the man says. He jumps up and the other two men jump up, too. They go over to the little fire and stand round it.

“We didn't mean no harm,” one of them say.

Daddy goes over and peeps in the car. Then he opens the door and gets in. I go over to the car where he is.

“Go stand 'side the fire,” Daddy says.

“I want get in with you,” I say.

“Do what I tell you,” Daddy says.

I go back to the fire, and I turn and look at Daddy in the car. Daddy passes his hand all over the car; then he just sit there quiet-like. All the people round the fire look at Daddy in the car. I can hear them talking real low.

After a little while, Daddy opens the door and gets out. He comes over to the fire.

“Well,” he says, “I guess that's it. You got a rope?”

“In the trunk,” Mr. George Williams says. “What you go'n do, drag it off the highway?”

“We can't burn it out here,” Daddy says.

“He say he go'n burn it,” somebody at the fire says.

“I'm go'n burn it,” Daddy says. “It's mine, ain't it?”

“Easy, Eddie,” Mr. George Williams says.

Daddy is mad but he don't say any more. Mr. George Williams looks at Daddy, then he goes over to his car and gets the rope.

“Ought to be strong enough,” Mr. George Williams says.

He hands Daddy the rope, then he goes and turns his car around. Everybody at the fire looks at Mr. George Williams backing up his car.

“Good,” Daddy says.

Daddy gets between the cars and ties them together. Some of the people come over and watch him.

“Y'all got a side road anywhere round here?” he asks.

“Right over there,” the man says. “Leads off back in the field. You ain't go'n burn up that good car for real, is you?”

“Who field this is?” Daddy asks.

“Mr. Roger Medlow,” the man says.

“Any colored people got fields round here anywhere?” Daddy asks.

“Old man Ned Johnson 'bout two miles farther down the road,” another man says.

“Why don't we just take it on back to the plantation?” Mr. George Williams says. “I doubt if Mr. Claude'll mind if we burnt it there.”

“All right,” Daddy says. “Might as well.”

Me and Daddy get in his car. Some of the people from the fire run up to Mr. George Williams's car. Mr. George Williams tells them something, and I see three of them jumping in. Mr. George Williams taps on the horn, then we get going. I sit 'way back in the seat and look at Daddy. Daddy's quiet. He's sorry because he got to burn up his car.

We go 'way down the road, then we turn and go down the quarter. Soon's we get down there, I hear two of the men in Mr. George Williams's car calling to the people. I sit up in the seat and look out at them. They standing on the fenders, calling to the people.

“Come on,” they saying. “Come on to the car-burning party. Free. Everybody welcome. Free.” We go farther down the quarter, and the two men keep on calling.

“Come on, everybody,” one of them says.

“We having a car-burning party tonight,” the other one says. “No charges.”

The people start coming out on the galleries to see what all the racket is. I look back and I see some out in the yard, and some already out in the road. Mr. George Williams stops in front of Gran'mon's house.

“You go'n tell Amy?” he calls to Daddy. “Maybe she like to go, since you doing it all for her.”

“Go tell your mama come on,” Daddy says.

I jump out the car and run in the yard.

“Come on, everybody,” one of the men says.

“We having a car-burning party tonight,” the other one says. “Everybody invited. No charges.”

I pull Gran'mon's door open and go in. Mama and Uncle Al and Gran'mon's sitting at the fireplace.

“Mama, Daddy say come on if you want see the burning,” I say.